eCheat.com RSS Feedhttps://www.echeat.com/ The Origin of the Dominican Republic The Origin of the Dominican Republic The Dominican Republic's origin story is rooted in a history of indigenous societies, European colonization, slavery, and struggles for independence. Shaping a nation with a diverse cultural heritage, ongoing political challenges, and significant contributions to the Caribbean region. The origin of the Dominican Republic goes back to the arrival of Christopher Columbus in 1492, who claimed to have found the island of Hispaniola. It is located in the Caribbean region of North America sharing the island with Haiti. The country is mostly known for its beautiful beaches, diverse culture and their music. Today, the country is growing their economy and a vibrant tourist industry. In this paper we will explore the history, culture, and tourism of the Dominican Republic, with a comprehensive overview of this beautiful country. The island of Hispaniola was originally inhabited by the taino people, an indigenous group who settled in the region before the Europeans arrived. However, in 1492, Christopher Columbus came to the island and began European colonization in the region. The Spanish established the first settlement on the island in 1496, in what is now Santo Domingo the capital of Dominican Republic. The island became an important center for agriculture and mining, with sugar plantations and gold mines throughout the region. The arrival of the Europenas led to the introduction of African Americans slaves that were brought to work on the plantations. Over the years the mixing of European, African, and indigenous cultures gave rise to a new culture now known as Dominican. The Dominican Republic established their independence in 1821, but Haiti was in control for about 22 years. During the years of fighting for independence they made their flag. It was the idea of the Dominican 2023-07-05T10:19:41.25-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/The-Origin-of-the-Dominican-Republic-45580.aspx The Gift of the Magi Essay “The Gift of the Magi” Essay It is a big effort to show love, no matter the status. This story shows the struggle between a couple to exchange gifts making a big and hard sacrifice to prove love one to another. The value of any gift does not count but the intention does really count. There are dark days but love fights everything. In the short story “The Gift of the Magi” by O. Henry, the author uses figurative language to demonstrate the central idea that Love can handle everything. Metaphor is a figure of speech to compare two things without using “like” or “as”. Alliteration is the repetition of the beginning consonant of a word. Symbolism is the word used to represent something beyond the literal meaning. O. Henry uses all of these devices to paint the beautiful story in the “The Gift of the Magi”. Within the short story, O. Henry uses figurative language to support the central idea that Love can handle everything even in the toughest times which is evidenced several times. The first example of figurative language is when he says, “Pennies saved one and two at a time by bulldozing the grocer” (lines, 2-3). This shows us that they do not have enough money even doing a big effort to save every single penny. Della is compared to a bulldozer working so hard to buy Jim a gift. The second example of figurative language is when O. Henry says, “Life is made up of sobs, sniffles, and smiles, with sniffles predominating” (line, 2). This means that life has sad and happy moments even when the tears fall down when there is no money to get the person's wants and get everyone’s wishes. The third example of figurative language is when he says, “She stood by the window and looked out dully at the gray cat walking a gray fence in a gray backyard” (lines, 25-26). The repetition of “g” in the gray color is also a symbolism of sadness because it’s almost Christmas and the lack of money to buy a gift to exchange one to another. In conclusion, finally in the short story, by using the literary element of figurative language in the “The Gift of the Magi”, the author clearly establishes the central idea where Love can struggle with everything. People that are willing to give up what means the most to them for the person they love. In the story, the couple acts on impulse as each strives to please their spouse. Della Young and Jim 2021-01-14T15:38:57.113-05:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/The-Gift-of-the-Magi-Essay-45504.aspx The Gift of the Magi 2021-01-14T15:32:57.813-05:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/The-Gift-of-the-Magi-45503.aspx Let's Write with Onomy and Persony Jamillah Goes to School Written by: Sitti Hayna S. Maruhom “Cock-a-doodle-doo, Jamillah wake up it’s already morning, Cock-a-doodle-doo, cock-a-doodle-doo!” the rooster shouted to wake Jamillah. Unfortunately, Jamillah’s room is far from the barn so she cannot hear the rooster. “Oh my gosh! It’s getting late and Jamillah is not yet up, I need to wake her up!” the clock beside Jamillah’s bedside table said, she started moving her 2017-12-15T00:05:32.927-05:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Let-s-Write-with-Onomy-and-Persony-45407.aspx Story with a twist (Onomatopoeia and Personification) Jamillah Goes to School Written by: Sitti Hayna S. Maruhom “Cock-a-doodle-doo, Jamillah wake up it’s already morning, Cock-a-doodle-doo, cock-a-doodle-doo!” the rooster shouted 2017-12-14T23:57:17.05-05:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Story-with-a-twist-Onomatopoeia-and-Personification-45406.aspx Legal Terms Student’s Name Instructor Name Course Date Legal Terms Last week on Tuesday, my cousin was assaulted by a drunken man at a bar while having a drink. The two harbored differing political opinions that led to the conflict. An assault is defined as a violent verbal or physical attack against a person provided they occur in any of these two forms, including Aggravated or Simple assault (Jones 102). My cousin, Tom, was very distressed by the issue such that he decided to lodge an Aggravated Assault complaint at the police station. An Aggravated Assault includes one that receives a more severe criminal punishment as a result of its high degree of seriousness (Jones 113). When the hearing began, the jury was given 12 to 24 hours to make their deliberations based on the evidence provided by Tom’s lawyer. The jury is a body that is tasked with giving a verdict based on the majority vote in legal cases that involve examining the evidence that is presented in court (Jones 114). When Tom launched the indictment or a formal accusation against the accused, the judge ordered the defense team to present their case before the jury. The defense lawyer could not object to the fact that the accused, Mr. Moses, attacked Tom, but their argument was that the court should not pay attention to the crime as if it is an act of felony. In some jurisdictions, the most serious offense is a felony or an indictable offense. The Defense Attorney made this request because the prosecutor was considering First Degree Felony. A defense attorney is a legal practitioner who specializes in defending individuals and companies that are charged with criminal activities (Jones 118). A Second Degree Felony means that the individual has committed a more serious crime than the First Degree Felony. If the prosecutor would have satisfied the conditions of a First Degree Felony, the accused would have been ordered by the judge to pay a fine of $25, 000 or a jail term amounting to 10 years imprisonment. When a person is indicted for a Second Degree Felony, they tend to receive a more severe punishment than in the case of a First Degree Felony. (Jones140). Tom was particularly amazed by the judicial nature of the prosecutor in convincing the judge to punish Moses. A prosecutor is a legal officer who takes over the responsibility of instituting legal proceedings against the 2017-10-01T10:31:23.853-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Legal-Terms-45378.aspx Live™!!~Los Angeles Rams vs San Francisco 49ers Live Stream| @NFL ... http://bit.ly/2xixDpE The 49ers offense has yet to score touchdown and they have started the season with two losses. The Rams were competitive in their loss to Washington in Week 2. The 49ers offense has yet to score touchdown and they have started the season with two losses. The Rams were competitive in their loss to Washington in Week 2. (Tony)| http://bit.ly/2xixDpE Rams vs 49ers Live Stream San Francisco 49ers vs Los Angeles Rams Thursday, Sept. 21, 5:30 p.m. PT/8:30 p.m. ET Levi’s Stadium, Santa Clara, CA NFL Network TV By Geoffrey C. Arnold The Oregonian/OregonLive http://bit.ly/2xixDpE San Francisco 49ers coach Kyle Shanahan was considered an offensive guru during his time in Atlanta, but the struggling 49ers have yet to score a touchdown as they prepare for their game against the Los Angeles Rams on Thursday Night Football (5:30 p.m. PT/8:30 p.m. ET, NFL Network, DirecTV). You can watch the live stream on the NFL’s mobile app or DirecTV’s NFL app. If the NFL Network is part of your cable package, you can also live stream the game through the NFL app on XBox, Apple TV, or Roku device on your TV. The 49ers (0-2) are trying to score their first touchdown under Shanahan. They have scored a total of 12 points in their first two games The nine points they scored against the Seattle Seahawks was nearly enough to pull off a monumental upset, but they gave up a late touchdown to lose 12-9. Shanahan, the offensive coordinator for the high-scoring Atlanta Falcons in 2016, is probably learning that it’s far easier to score touchdowns when you have quarterback Matt Ryan, wide receiver Julio Jones and running back Devonta Freeman instead of Brian Hoyer, Pierre Garcon and Carlos Hyde. The Rams (1-1) seem to be trending upwards under first-year coach Sean McVay. They rolled past Indianapolis 46-9 in Week 1 and then hung tough with Washington before losing 27-20 last week. Second-year quarterback Jared Goff remains a work in progress. He looked solid in the game against the Colts, completing 21-of-29 passes for 306 yards with a touchdown. However, his effort – 15-of-25, 224 yards – against Washington was so-so, and he threw an bad interception late in the fourth quarter with Rams trailing 27-20. Here’s everything you need to know to watch the game, or follow along as we bring you the latest score, live updates, photos and video highlights in the comments section below. Watch live stream: You can watch the live stream on the NFL’s 2017-09-21T17:42:41.417-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Live™-~Los-Angeles-Rams-vs-San-Francisco-49ers-Live-Stream-NFL-___-45376.aspx A Rose for Emiliy Name: Professor: Subject: Date Irony in A Rose for Emily and The Story of an Hour William Faulkner’s book, A Rose for Emily, is an account of the life of Emily Egrierson. Emily’s relationship with her father and the members of Jefferson Town leads the reader to conclude that she is an odd person. The life of Emily seems unusual because she isolates herself from the general population most of the time. In the same vein, Kate Chopin’s novel, The Story of an Hour, is a tale of Loise Mallard, a character that suffers from a heart condition. Mallard's temperament is also eccentric since she starts thinking about a life that is more pleasurable after her husband, Brently Mallard, dies. The theme of irony surfaces in the two books since Emily’s and Loise’s behaviors are highly out of place. Faulkner brings the idea of irony to the surface in A Rose for Emily where Emily leads a lifestyle that is primarily characterized by isolation. As a young girl, Emily attracted numerous suitors, but her father pushed them away with a whip. This action led Emily to isolate herself even after the demise of her father. Such behavior is ironical because most people would assume that Emily would lead a more social existence after the death of her father because she had many suitors. Furthermore, a paradox surfaces where Emily's family is exempted from paying taxes. After the death of Emily's dad, Colonel Sartoris exempted the Ergrierson family from paying taxes. Such a move can be perceived as illogical since the household did not fulfill its tax obligations to the community. Emily’s assertions support this supposition; she said that she would not pay her taxes after the members of the Board of Aldermen told her that she had tax arrears. This scene presents an ironical situation since all the other town members, except Emily’s household, paid their taxes. Similarly, the notion of irony is seen in The Story of an Hour after Loise began thinking more positively about life after the death of her husband. After Loise learns about her husband’s death from Josephine, she breaks down in tears and isolates herself in her room. However, she begins to think about the newly found freedom that came with the demise of her spouse. Her husband loved and cared for her, but Loise could not stop thinking about the better, non-restricted life that came with 2017-01-08T15:36:27.307-05:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/A-Rose-for-Emiliy-35266.aspx Ethics and Science in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein Name Instructor Course Date Frankenstein Critical Analysis Evaluation Essay Frankenstein is a book of fiction written by English novelist Mary Shelley. It recounts the tale of a youthful scientist, Victor Frankenstein, who created a serpent-like grotesque in a heretical experiment. Shelly wrote the story when she was only 18 years old, which was anonymously, published in 1818 in London when she was barely 20 years old. It began as a short story with its themes focusing on the cultural aspect of the society during Shelly’s time and characters representing struggle against societal control (Scott, 1818). Nevertheless, in the near beginning of the nineteenth century, outlook on human values were extensively allied with natural sciences. On the other hand, detractor implied that anatomy and psychology were connected to literary works. This resulted in the disputation of irregularities in the human standard and thus the differences were rejected through an innate reaction. It is argued that even though the monster developed language skills as well as emotions, it is a grotesque being, thus does not fit any ideal. According to Shelly's stylistic techniques, voyager Walton's Roberts epistolary contact with his sister, as an external outline into Frankenstein's remembrance that guides him even after the monster is created (Scott, 1818). The voice used is the first-person narrative in Walton’s voice and the writer Shelly, in turn, uses dialogue to provide the thoughts the other characters including mysterious and violent events and a decaying society. Most of the critics about the book are based on Shelly’s life. Similarly, they revolve around the narration of authorship and creation. The work lacks leading feminine personality, whereas it has focused its entire interest on the notion of the idealistic artiste. However, the change in attention was contributed by the emergence of the feminist theory in the 1970s and the 1980s that established an intellectual significance and the importance of female novelists. The novel has been assessed right through the lens of masculinity as feminine is not fundamental (Scott, 1818). Furthermore, the relationship between women figures in the story, namely, Elizabeth and Justine faces execution as they establish bond emerging from brief conversations on mutual experiences. Notably, females were tenuous in Shelly's life due to the impulsive loss of her mother as well as the dubious affiliation with her sibling, Jane, who was afterward alleged to bear a child with Shelly's spouse. Also, the nun's name then changes to Claire. On the parent-child tensions, the 2016-11-02T12:01:25.677-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Ethics-and-Science-in-Mary-Shelley’s-Frankenstein-35240.aspx Sunny Blue Summary The narrator, a teacher in Harlem, has escaped the ghetto, creating a stable and secure life for himself despite the destructive pressures that he sees destroying so many young blacks. He sees African American adolescents discovering the limits placed on them by a racist society at the very moment when they are discovering their abilities. He tells the story of his relationship with his younger brother, Sonny. That relationship has moved through phases of separation and return. After their parents’ deaths, he tried and failed to be a father to Sonny. For a while, he believed that Sonny had succumbed to the destructive influences of Harlem life. Finally, however, they achieved a reconciliation in which the narrator came to understand the value and the importance of Sonny’s need to be a jazz pianist. The story opens with a crisis in their relationship. The narrator reads in the newspaper that Sonny was taken into custody in a drug raid. He learns that Sonny is addicted to heroin and that he will be sent to a treatment facility to be “cured.” Unable to believe that his gentle and quiet brother could have so abused himself, the narrator cannot reopen communication with Sonny until a second crisis occurs, the death of his daughter from polio. When Sonny is released, the narrator brings him to live with his family. The middle section of the story is a flashback. The narrator remembers his last talk with his mother, in which she made him promise to “be there” for Sonny. Home on leave from the army, he has seen little of Sonny, who is then is school. His mother tells him about the death of his uncle, a story she had kept from him until this moment. His uncle, much loved by his father, was killed in a hit-and-run accident by a group of drunken whites who miscalculated in an attempt to frighten the young man. The pain, sorrow, and rage this event aroused colored his father’s whole life, especially his relationship with Sonny, who reminded him of his brother. She tells the narrator this story partly in order to illustrate that there is no safety from suffering in their world. The narrator cannot protect Sonny from the world any more than his father could protect his own brother. Such suffering is a manifestation of the general chaos of life out of which people struggle to create some 2015-04-12T21:52:26.837-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Sunny-Blue-Summary-35102.aspx parenting 2015-01-09T07:43:16.38-05:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/parenting-35076.aspx Would you believe it? Would you believe it? It was a disappointing day. Not a good day to be happy. But I can’t help smiling to this wonderful girl. I was in the hallway that day, going home already. I was just alone and no one was with me. My classmates already went home, my bestfriend had a date with his girlfriend, and my girlfriend- I mean my ex-girlfriend- had also cling in to another guy by now. Damn it was quite. But the atmosphere of silence just change immediately when I saw this girl. I’m not stupid but as I saw her, my world seems to turn slow. Sparkles are everywhere. A soft heartwarming music was playing in perfection. My heartbeat goes beating fast. My knees are melting. And to my unconsciousness- I fell to the ground after taking the last step in the stairs. Damn! It hurts. I was just lucky no one saw me because everybody already went home, except for this girl- so embarrassing. I thought she would never help me and just like what other people do, laugh at my stupidity. But she never did it. She came running to me like a princess, asked beautifully if I was just okay, helps me stand up gracefully, and gave me a smile after doing it. She’s so amazing. After that, she even gave me her handkerchief to wipe out the dirt off my shirt. I couldn’t help but just stare at her while helping me as if I was somebody she already used to know. I can’t stop myself from smiling as she was also smiling back at me. I even feel like I was dreaming and I don’t want to wake up anymore to my own reality. I just want this moment for now to be with her. But after what she had did to me, I never thought that it would be the last time that I’ll ever see that beautiful face again. Days, weeks, and even months passed, I never saw her again. I even went back to the stairs where I first saw her and waited for how many hours, but she never came back. I even intended to let myself fall again in the stairs to see if she would come out, but no one did. The only thing that came was sadness and tears in my eyes. I missed her. I couldn’t hide the fact that from that very 2014-07-16T22:42:32.577-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Would-you-believe-it-35045.aspx A pain: LOVE It was the last night we were spending our pleasant time together. In a few hours time, she would be leaving me, alone. I prayed many nights before for this day not to come, but time quickly passed by. I guessed it was time. Time for us to be part. I held her head in my arms with tears rolling down my cheeks. She was too weak to speak. Beside me and her, there was no one to help me. I wanted to call someone, but I couldn't leave her alone lying on the road. She just closed her eyes and felt the warmth of my body. "What should I do?", I thought to myself, thinking of what had just happened. It all started in a restaurant- where we first met each other three years ago. That was the day when I let the cat out of my beg by telling her that I loved her. She knew me very well, we studied in the same high school. But I was disappointed when she told me that I had to get a job first. And now here I am sitting in front of my love with a glass filled with red roses between us on the table. The chandelier with dim orange light and candles made the place look romantic. She looked beautiful in the candlelight. "What could possibly go wrong?", I thought. I told her that I had a job. Her eyes met mine and she chuckled coyly- remembering to what she had told me on our last meeting. Her name is Kavena, she has curly black hair with beautiful brown eyes. I found myself staring at her face. I brought my eyes back to the roses. Kavena is gorgeous, I mean I've seen many girls before but, Vena was lot more beautiful, because she just seemed so natural, like she wasn't trying to be beautiful and didn't even care about that. She just was. With her braided hair and white dress, she seemed to glow in the candlelight. I probably would've sat there for the rest of the day staring at her and trying to remember what my name was, but the arrival of the waiter jarred me back to reality. "What is your order sir?", he asked. " Uh...two plates of spaghetti carbonara please", Vena saved me. 2014-06-04T10:00:28.923-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/A-pain-LOVE-35039.aspx The Great War Chapter 1: Training Training Base 13842, Texas (2065) "Hurry up!" I heard a voice shout from outside the hallways. Probably the Captain I was assigned to, so he could test me. I glanced behind me. A thing chased me. It was small, with thin, brown legs. It scuttled after me in my Viper suit. I hurriedly ran around a corner and grabbed my FR283. I heard its legs tapping the floor rhythmically as it approached. As it drew near, I readied my weapon and attached a 'hyperclip' into it. The assault rifle glowed red. Finally, I saw the creature turn the corner. I aimed, and fired. The bullet sank into its brown hard shell and peiced its skin. It flinched, and I saw green blood ooze downward into the cracks of the floor. It screamed with rage and charged. I barely managed to step aside. I backed up into a fountain, and got soaked. Luckily, my 'hyperclip' was still active. I estimated there was about 10 seconds left of it. I quickly took a sip of water and fired again. This time, a rapid strait of bullets. The bullets seemed to travel slowly. I watched. BAM! As the barrage of bullets slammed into the creature, it exploded into green liquid, splattering me with its blood from head to toe. I stood strait up. I saw my officer in command stride towards me. "Good job, trainee," he exclaimed. "Thank you, sir," I responded back. "You did well. However, next time, don't waste your valuable seconds drinking water, please. I will let it pass this time around. What is your name, trainee?" he responded and asked at the same time. "Sydney," I responded. "Well done Sydney. Go wash off and take a break," he responded, "And call me Captain Stryker." "Yes sir, Captain Stryker!" I responded and marched off towards my cabin located in the East Hall. Chapter 2: The Arena The Arena, Texas (2065) "Here is the place where the real test begins, Sydney," Captain Stryker announced. We were standing in a lobby with a set of sliding doors in front of us. "What am I supposed to do, Captain Stryker sir?" I asked questioning my test. "You, my friend, have to face off against other solders in training. It won't be easy, I grant you, but I will offer 2014-01-10T20:45:09.363-05:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/The-Great-War-34996.aspx A Teacher's Diary A TEACHER’S DIARY: PARENTS ADVICE IS THE BEST! I’m Daphne May Elson, an average girl that you always meet in the road. You might think of me as a stranger but not for my students. I am a fresh graduate from a well known university in Marawi, the so-called Mindanao State University. And today is my first day of teaching at the school that I applied. It is actually the school that my father’s love so much. The school called Butterfly Angels Sanctuary School. The way to school is actually the peaceful time for me to think and cherish all the memories that I had. I might feel pressured because this is my first day, and the principal is there to observe me on my first lesson which by the way is tomorrow. As I see the school main entrance I suddenly remembered all the troubles I had in my college life including the death of my father. Yes, you heard it right my father died right before the day I will be receiving my diploma in my school, the Butterfly Angels Sanctuary School. March 24 day before my graduation day, instead of preparing for my upcoming graduation celebration, here I am and my mother at the Morgue; Sobbing at the cold corpse of my father, my very beloved father. As I prefer describing him to my classmates, the very best history teacher in the world. It may sound clichéd but that is how I described my father. He loves teaching so much to the extent that he considered his students as his own children. He is suffering at some kind of disease, a disease called cancer. Despite of his illness he still pursues to teach. Up until to his last breath all he can say is that “History is not just a subject, but a world.” He also said that I should love history. Yes, you heard right. That’s the last word that he said before he leave me and my mother. You want to know the reason why? I HATE HISTORY! If my father considered history as a world, then I considered History as my enemy. In fact, I almost got a failing grade in history. My teachers keep wondering why I did not perfect that subject. Well, in fact the best history teacher in the school is my father. And as I said a while ago, HISTORY IS MY ENEMY. 2013-05-16T18:35:22.333-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/A-Teacher-s-Diary-34886.aspx “This is the story of a young man/woman who was able to escape from a difficult past to make a success of…” I tuned off the school principal’s voice at this point, ignoring his excited gestures and flying spittle. I was eight then. The man came out of nowhere, and I remember pain, horror, screaming, torn clothes, more screaming…It was only afterwards, in the hospital, that I understood what had happened to me. Twenty years ago the society wasn’t exactly sympathetic towards rape victims; it still isn’t today. Principal Govender’s voice pulled me back to reality. I stood up to the pitiful round of applause, and walked up the stage. As I looked down, half the students were dozing off; and most of the other half had a snicker on their face. I putted on a smile, and began to tell my story in a grave voice: how I struggled to live with my past; how my family gave me hope and support; how, after years of hard work, I finally became the head of the leading car manufacturing plant with Toyota, It is a boring old story, nothing unheard of before. And if this speech managed to inspire even one of these students, it would be nothing short of a miracle. Of course, there are things that a high school guest speaker just cannot include in his speech. For example, the way my mother indulged in various substances after my “incident”, and my father and I never sent her to the rehabilitation centre for the fear of even more publicity. Or better, how I found my puppy strangled and hung from a tree one day. The thoughts were playing in my head, like the various explosions in an engine moving the pistons back and forth. Suddenly there was just a moment of silence. I realized how Oprah used honesty with her followers that’s how she was able to inspire, not just them, but the world. 2013-05-08T14:47:49.49-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/“This-is-the-story-of-a-young-man-woman-who-was-able-to-escape-from-a-difficult-past-to-make-a-success-of…”-34881.aspx A broken soul’s story Left alone, abandoned and the pain of stabbing is what I feel. Every moments of my life 2013-01-22T14:43:09.093-05:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/A-broken-soul’s-story-34782.aspx Unknown journey, unknown destination, unknown self... It’s me… I choose this… I choose all of this. But it wasn’t supposed to happen. I shouldn’t be left here alone. Why? Why me? Fearing for my life, I am trying to drag my broken body towards a familiar face that hurriedly running towards me. Within a second, I feel a lot warmer as I opened my eyes I saw that face holding me, screaming, crying. Her warm lap comforted me a lot. I felt her warm teardrop falling down my cheek. By seeing her crying, I felt like someone is tearing my heart apart. I opened my mouth just to say “mom, don’t cry. Please don’t cry” but only blood came out of my mouth as I attempt to say something. As she screamed for help by seeing me like this, I reflected a life time memories… “Hurry up, the dinner is getting cold” my mom shouted. “Coming” I murmured under my breath. Walking through the stairs, my heart is beating fast as I am about to ask her if I can go to a friend’s party, but after I asked her I wasn’t expecting her to snapped at me. I was too stubborn I guess which made her angrier and cause her to shout at me. Didn’t realise it before, without thinking anything I said to her some harsh words. “I hate you” “I hate my life” “I hate this world” but I didn’t mean it from my heart, she knows that I love her no matter what, right? I really wish I could have said that to her earlier… Furious, angry and livid- I stormed off slamming the door behind me. Bang! I heard the sound as the door closed. As I walked outside, I felt like my whole body is freezing. The weather is icy cold, depressing and miserable. I didn’t know why but the weather made me feel guilty for some reason. The black pitch sky is imitating me by reflecting my feelings with the weather. The wind is chasing all the dead leafs off the road. I feel like everything was in hurry as if it’s their last day on earth. The all trees are banging with each other causing their branch and leaf to fall off; seems like they are trying to run away from something. Suddenly everything was silent, no noise or anything. I felt something is following me, to check looked behind; the second I looked at the 2013-01-22T14:37:40.367-05:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Unknown-journey,-unknown-destination,-unknown-self___-34781.aspx Diary of a Wimpy Kid Book Report Diary of a Wimpy Kid is a book about a middle-schooler named Greg Heffley, but he seems to have a lot of bad luck. Greg is not as tough as his dad would like for him to be. Greg is actually pretty wimpy, but his dad really wants that to change. Greg lives with his parents, an older brother (Rodrick), and a little brother (Manny). Whipping Greg into shape was not going to be easy, and the fact that his best friend (Rowley) was just as wimpy as Greg wasn’t going to make this any easier. Greg is always getting into embarrassing situations, and just seems to be at the wrong place, at the wrong time. When Greg is not embarrassing himself, his family seems to do it for him. He has a crush on a girl in his class at school, Holly Hills, but she doesn’t even notice him. Mr.Heffley’s boss has sons that are very much into sports, but Greg is not the sporty type. His dad wants this to change, so he signs Greg up to play soccer. Greg is not excited about playing soccer. He is horrible at soccer, so he had a plan so that he wouldn’t have to play in the game. He asked the coach if he could be the back-up goalie, because the boy that played goalie was very good and Greg figured he could get through the season by sitting on the bench. Just when he thought that he had it all planned out, the goalie was hurt during the game. The coach had no choice but to put Greg in the game. Greg’s team was up by a few points, so he figured that with only two minutes left on the clock what kind of damage could he really do? He wasn’t paying attention and protecting the goal like he should have. The other team scored, and Greg caused them to lose the game. This ruined the team’s winning streak, they were undefeated until they put Greg in the game. Greg’s dad wasn’t happy that soccer wasn’t able to change Greg’s wimpy ways. His dad knew a trouble making kid that lived in the neighborhood. The kid was sent to boot camp because his parents were tired of him getting 2012-10-25T11:57:08.267-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Diary-of-a-Wimpy-Kid-Book-Report-34725.aspx terrorism in nigeria NAIJAN.COM HAS MOVED to www.naijagists.com, Please update your bookmarks Thank youHow Boko Haram Started – Their Sponsors & ... NAIJAN.COM HAS MOVED to www.naijagists.com, Please update your bookmarks Thank youShare Boko Haram Militants Updated Nov 6, 2011 – How Boko Haram Started – Their Sponsors & History of The Jama’atul Ahlus Sunna Lid Da’awatis Jihad The Islamic fundamentalist group, Boko Haram, has admitted of being responsible for the rise of Boko Haram, saying it started as a cell of the sect, officially called Jama’atul Ahlus Sunna Lid Da’awatis Jihad but named Boko Haram … of the northern elite who, under the pretext of sponsoring youngsters to study in the Middle East, sent them to terrorist training camps. They thought they could manipulate Yusuf but he refused to tow the line, and in the end he was executed by the police, he explained. ‘Ifhe were alive, he would have spilled the beans on them. Nonetheless, we will reveal their identities at our convenience,’ said Teshako, who is also known as Yusufiyya after the slain leader. According to him, the clashes between Boko Haram and security forces two years ago were the result of police provocation. The police had shot dead two of its members and wounded 20 more after they followed mourners to the burial ceremony. The armed uprising that followed affected four northern states and claimed the lives of at least 300 people. ‘We are attacking police because they killed our brothers,’ Ibrahim Khalil Zarkawi, a Boko Haram leader told Bashir Ibrahim Idris of RFI’s Hausa service at the time. (www.naijan.com) ‘There isn ‘t good leadership in Nigeria. Muslims are being killed daily and the authorities are doing nothing about it. These are the reasons why we are retaliating against the police, because they are the ones who killed our brothers.’ Troops stormed Boko Haram’s stronghold in Maiduguri and Yusuf was arrested the following day after reportedly being found hiding in his parents-in-Iaw’s house. Later, journalists were shown two films – one Jonathan during his inauguration in May, which was marred by a series of deadly bomb blasts apparently showing Yusuf making a confession, the other showing what appeared to be his body, riddled with bullets. Boko Haram Leader Mohammed Yusuf Interrogation before his execution Boko Haram History in Nigeria Boko Haram is a controversial Nigerian militant Islamist group that seeks the imposition of Sharia law in the northern states of Nigeria. Meaning of Boko Haram The term “Boko Haram” comes from 2012-06-15T06:46:12.47-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/terrorism-in-nigeria-34591.aspx The Mysterious Ball I stared with bewilderment as the ball rolled out of my grasp. It landed on the grass patch on the side of the path. Squinting in the darkness, I could make out a paved trail, shrouded from view by overgrown clumps of bushes. It was already past midnight and I was in no position to spend the night chasing a ball, which seemed to have a mind of its own. Mind of its own…The word replayed in my mind. The thought of the ball being possessed by spirits crept me out. None of this would have happened if I hadn’t disobeyed my parents’ orders. Since they had gone out to attend a dinner gathering, I was alone at home. After years of having taken care of myself, acquiring that sense of independence came to me naturally.Nevertheless, being a mischievous boy, evil thoughts began to crowd my mind when my eyes fell on the ball. Basically, that’s how I ended up here. And now, my confidence was wavering. I looked back, and I realized that I was a long way from home. “Perhaps someone living over the other side might be able to help me…” I pondered. As if on cue, the ball rolled down the stoned path, beckoning me to follow. I was too young to realize the enormity of the situation then. A young boy, wandering away from home, chasing after a ball that was leading him astray. Unbelievable. The rustling of leaves jolted me into the present. I whipped around, but I was unable to find anything peculiar. Surprisingly, the ball had stopped rolling, as if it had also sensed a presence. Mustering up my courage, I decided to peer into the bush. The thorns pricked my skin, and the dim light made my task even harder. However, my hands stroked against a cold metal. And to my astonishment, it was a pocket sized, golden-framed mirror. The pale moonlight shone off it, giving it an eerie glow. “This might come in handy,” I thought as I pocketed it. It was only then did I realize that the atmosphere of the surroundings had changed drastically. The old trees were twisted and gnarled, much like the fingernails of an old lady. The leaves had long withered away, and the ground looked like an unkempt Persian carpet. The temperature had dropped several degrees, and it was unusually quiet. Unexpectedly, the howl of a 2012-02-14T07:45:54.283-05:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/The-Mysterious-Ball-34478.aspx Sojourner Truth Truth was one of "ten or twelve" children born to James and Elizabeth Baumfree. James Baumfree was a slave captured from the Gold Coast in modern-day Ghana. Elizabeth Baumfree, also known as Mau-Mau Bet to children who knew her, was the daughter of African slaves from the Coast of Guinea.The Baumfree family were slaves of Colonel Hardenbergh. The Hardenbergh estate was in a hilly area called by the Dutch name Swartekill (just north of present-day Rifton), in the town of Esopus, New York, 95 miles north of New York City.[3] After the colonel's death, ownership of the family slaves passed to his son, Charles Hardenbergh. After the death of Charles Hardenbergh in 1806, Truth, known as Belle, was sold at an auction. She was about 9 years old and was included with a flock of sheep for $100 to John Neely, near Kingston, New York. Until she was sold, Truth spoke only Dutch.She suffered many hardships at the hands of Neely, whom she later described as cruel and harsh and who once beat her with a bundle of rods. Truth previously said Neely beat her daily. Neely sold her in 1808, for $105, to Martinus Schryver of Port Ewen, a tavern keeper, who owned her for 18 months. Schryver sold her in 1810, for $175, to John Dumont of West Park, New York. Although this fourth owner was kindly disposed toward her, his wife found numerous ways to harass Truth and make her life more difficult. Around 1815, Truth met and fell in love with a slave named Robert from a neighboring farm. Robert's owner (Catlin) forbade the relationship; he did not want his slave to have children with a slave he did not own, because he would not own the children. Robert was savagely beaten and Truth never saw him again. Later, he died from the aforementioned injuries. In 1817, Truth was forced by Dumont to marry an older slave named Thomas. She had five children: Diana (1815), fathered by Robert; and Thomas who died shortly after birth, Peter (1821), Elizabeth (1825), and Sophia (ca. 1826), fathered by Thomas. Freedom In The state of New York began, in 1799, to legislate the abolition of slavery, although the process of emancipating New York slaves was not complete until July 4, 1827. Dumont had promised to grant Truth her freedom a year before the state emancipation, "if she would do well 2011-11-15T10:26:42.51-05:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Sojourner-Truth-34341.aspx Article Rreview on Getting to the Pointe for Eighth Graders “Getting to the Pointe” is an article written by Sheri Henderson that proves that ballet is an extreme sport. Even though some people might think of ballet dancers as artists, they also need the skill of an extreme athlete. The dancers use their Pointe to stand on their toes. In fact, the force on the Pointe of their shoes can equal ten times their body weight. For this reason, experts suggest that Pointe work should not begin before the ages 10-12. Dancers must listen to their coaches to limit the risks of pain and injuries. In fact, most of the stages that ballet performs on are opera stages. Ballet dancers’ floor protects the dancer’s feet and legs. additionally, ballet training does more than build strength, it changes the shape of the ballet dancer`s body. However dancing is an art that is not judged by the same standards that athletic contests do. 2011-11-12T21:14:54.99-05:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Article-Rreview-on-Getting-to-the-Pointe-for-Eighth-Graders-34338.aspx new 2011-11-09T06:15:05.747-05:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/new-34317.aspx Angela Davis Angela Yvonne Davis was born January 26, 1944 in Birmingham, Alabama. She was born and raised during a time and place of great political a racial controversies. In 1960, Davis traveled abroad where she studied in Germany at the Frankfurt School, and attended the University of Paris. When Davis returned to the U.S., she enrolled at the University of California at San Diego, where she began pursuing her master's degree, and career as a professor of philosophy. She began intensely involved in the Southern California black community. She joined organizations such as Black Panthers Party for Self Defense. She was also an activist during the Civil Rights Movements. Her involvement in these radical groups expressed proudly that she was a revolutionary black communist that challenge capitalism. She is no longer identified as a Communist, but rather a democratic socialist, and is currently a member of the Committees of Correspondence for Democracy and Socialism. She first achieved nationwide notoriety when a weapon registered in her name was linked to the murder of Judge Harold Haley. During an effort to free a black convict who was being tried for the attempted murder of a white prison guard who killed three unarmed black inmates. She 2009-02-11T00:52:02-05:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Angela-Davis--33964.aspx Best Experience of My Life The best experience of my life was going to Six Flags America, because I had a lot of fun traveling and exploring, and I enjoyed spending time with my family and riding roller coaster’s. I’m a type of person that loves travel and discover places I never seen before. Sitting in a car while glaring at amazing places you never seen before is what I love about traveling. We stopped at restaurants we never heard before, and my family and I ate and talked about what we’re going to go before we arrive at Six Flags. We looked at some stores down at Pennsylvania and I bought two shirts for souvenir. I took pictures on huge rocks, nice clean water 2009-01-26T15:10:59-05:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Best-Experience-of-My-Life-33949.aspx Don Quixote Cyle Parker Eng Lit 250 Dr. Pettit The novel Don Quixote, by Miguel Cervantes, is an exploration into the idea of created reality. Cervantes, through the character of Don Quixote, illustrates to readers how we as human beings often make reality to be whatever we want it to be. Don Quixote is a perfect example of “created reality.” The character Don Quixote is real, and he lives in a real world, but everything that he sees is exaggerated in his mind. It all begins with his name. Don Quixote was not actually a Don. He was a wealthy, intelligent farmer who read too many books about knighthood and went crazy. He convinced a simple-minded peasant named Sancho to become his squire, promising him wealth and a high spot in society. This book consists of many adventures these two had, both were convinced that they were doing brave and honorable acts of chivalry, when they were only two fools running around the countryside. Don Quixote sees what his mind and imagination create, not that which is actually perceived through his eyes. He retreats to a world that holds meaning for him. When he first departs, he stops at an inn and his eyes make it a beautiful castle with blushing maids and noble sirs. Another example of Don Quixote’s rampant imagination is the famous windmill incident. Quixote believes the windmills he sees in the distance to be thirty monstrous giants. In this scene, Cervantes lets the reader know that Quixote has little grasp of reality. Sancho tried to tell Quixote that the giants were only windmills, but he wouldn’t listen. Sancho couldn’t fathom that his master was mad, so he shuts the incident out of his mind, displaying some of the madness of Don Quixote in our supposedly sane squire. I believe that Sancho despises the fact that his master might be mad, but accepts some of the lunacy to make his job easier. Despite his delusions, however, Don Quixote is fiercely intelligent and, at times, seemingly sane. No single analysis of Don Quixote’s character can adequately explain the split between his madness and his sanity. It may be possible that Don Quixote really does know what is going on around him and that he merely chooses to ignore the world and the consequences of his disastrous actions. At several times in the novel, 2007-12-13T13:17:47-05:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Don-Quixote--33465.aspx Day Dreaming Whenever I can't sleep and that is often, I lie on my back, staring up at a ceiling blank and white as a sheet of paper. At these times, I try to imagine the ink-dark sky above my house, with its spattering of stars, inconceivably distant. Everything is all right up there always, I think not as if it is down here, where vague anxieties seem to infect my every circumstance. However, thinking about the sky doesn't help. Moreover, the pillow beneath my head, the mattress beneath my body, never feel quite comfortable as I toss and turn. They irritate me, in fact, as if loose grains of sand littered the sheets. Repeatedly my mind replays scenes from my autobiographical movie: the old humiliations, the awkward encounters, the opportunities fumbled. In addition, my childish or adolescent memories rise up to tyrannize me all over again. With quickness, I wake up, well actually, I am already awake, but my mind continues to daydream, daydream about everything. I have tried to medicate myself. I favor herbal concoctions green tea or, better, vicodian and they work for a night or two, and then stop. A week later, I will try them again, and they'll work for a night or two then stop. I don't know what my problem is, unless it's that I don't really want to sleep. Perhaps I'm afraid of those blank, unconscious hours afraid I'll miss something or annoyed by the silly, confounded dreams that drain away so quickly from my waking memory. (Trying to hold on to them is like trying to hold water in my hand.) Probably my mind is the problem. As I lie in bed, my head is a hall of mirrors, reflecting an unceasing parade of daily predicaments they flash through my memory like over-exposed snapshots. Moreover, I think, "I should have done this; I should have done that." I tell myself to stop thinking so much. Then I become much too aware of the night sounds around me. Down the street, a dog is upset. A cat yowls in the alley like an angry baby. An ambulance howls urgently, as if in great pain, on its way to the hospital. In addition, somewhere, miles away, a train is rumbling its lugubrious way down the moon-silver rails. Click, clack, click clack. Then came that long, deep horn blast: Get out of my way! The noise scared 2007-11-28T18:25:06-05:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Day-Dreaming-33446.aspx Analysis Short Happy Life of Francis Macomber In the story “The Short Happy Life of Francis Macomber” by Ernest Hemingway, there are three main characters that the story of an African safari revolves around. Francis Macomber, Margaret (Francis’s wife), and Wilson (the professional hunter) are the characters which the writer, Ernest Hemingway, uses to create an opportunity for Francis to overcome his internal conflicts and live a short, happy life by conquering his fears. Francis’s marriage to Margaret is problematic because he is deviously subjugated by her manipulation. Wilson acts as a catalyst for Francis’s change by not only being a guide to Francis for the safari, but acting as a model of physical courage that also helps guide Francis to what he is silently seeking, manhood. The story supplies enough evidence to conclude that Francis interaction with Margaret and Wilson instigates opposing effects, where Margaret encourages devastation and Wilson promotes restoration. Margot imposes a mental and sexual dominance over her husband. It is revealed to the reader in the beginning when she leans over to kiss Wilson on the mouth in front of her husband to show her disfavor with Francis. The dominance sexually over her husband is made clear when Margaret leaves during the night to sleep with Wilson. As with most adulterers, their motives for infidelity strain from dissatisfaction of their marriage. She shows approval with Wilson’s display of firmness and less of an acceptance with Francis’s lack of certainty when Wilson is the one that stands to kill the lion, while Francis flees from danger. She explains how Francis’s cowardice during the hunt affected her when she says, “I wish it hadn’t happened”, and leaves almost in tears (Hemingway). Her statement and actions described by the narrator paint the picture that she is sincere in sharing the unpleasantness of what happened with Francis, but later she comes back and confesses, “I’ve dropped the whole thing” (Hemingway). Margaret’s 360º change of attitude in forgetting the incident shows how that she is not upset because of any concern for her husband, but that she did not expected her husband to live up to her expectations. The story also reveals that this infidelity by Margaret had been accruing for many years before and that she had also detached herself from her husband sexually. The narrator subtly clues the reader into the degree of sexual interaction with Francis and his wife when he describes 2007-07-22T06:03:12-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Analysis-Short-Happy-Life-of-Francis-Macomber-33298.aspx Fictional 11 Page Story On the outside he was a blue eyed, brown haired, misunderstood genius. On the inside he was an artist dying to come out, a lover with no one to swoon, and an unsuspecting geek to say the least. She made a mistake for she would always be too good for him. She was an heiress who needed someone to latch onto for a while. She was wild, unpredictable, and nothing more than a friend to any man she would like to call her own. She sat in class by the football players while he sat in the back drawing on desks. Their paths were never meant to cross and they were never supposed to come in contact with each other. Until one day when she decided she needed another way to get what she wanted. She approached him on the walk home. They lived in complete opposite sides of the town. For the first few blocks all she could see was the back of his head and all he could hear was her feet tapping lightly on the pavement. "SAMSON!", she called out, her brown hair flying out like streamers as she ran to catch up with him. He turned, noded, and sped his pace ever so slightly. “Samson wait! I need to talk to you.” “Oh, H_Hi Delilah” he stammers. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you. How have you been? I read your article in the school newspaper about how Mahatma Gandhi said that the greatness of a nation and its moral progress can be judged by the way its animals are treated. I thought it was really great. I would have said something before, but, well…" "Oh that doesn’t matter Sam. It was nothing really. Umm… listen. I have been noticing you in school. Have you been doing weight lifting? Oh, uh, no? Well, I just figured, I mean…" "I don’t consider muscle size a complement you know. And even if I did, Delilah, I’m neither stupid nor blind. I do look in mirrors and there is nothing but skin and bones on skeletal structure. What did you really want to talk to me about? Need me to write an English paper for you? Because well I’m free after tuba practice so you better jump on it now. What are we talking? A- Or a B+ maybe?" "No. No it’s not that. Well. Ok. I think I like you Sam. Your not like 2007-04-26T22:56:57-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Fictional-11-Page-Story-33168.aspx The Green Green Grass "The Green Green Grass" The doorbell rang and woke my baby up and I thought, “great another screwed up day with a cranky kid.” I am so sick of childcare consisting of 13 hours a day, 7 days a week. My husband told me I had to have this baby or get out. Sometimes I hate him, lately more often than not. He is bossy and controlling. I hadn’t even turned 21 before I made a major decision about marriage. My husband is an anal retentive neat freak and he expects all things perfect all the time. He would come home and if the house were the least bit off he would start yelling and slamming the dishes as he put them in the dishwasher. If the lampshade were a sixteenth of an inch off, he would roll his eyes and correct it in front of me as if I was either to blind or too lazy to do it myself. He would use the leveler on furniture, pictures and the lamps to make sure everything was even all the time. I told him having a baby is going to upset his whole universal balance of cleanliness. My daughter’s first words besides “Mama” and “Daddy” were “fresh” and “clean”. Now the house is always in disarray and I hope the squalor chokes him. The bell rings again, by this time the baby is screaming, the phone is ringing and the dog is going crazy at the door. Little dogs are so loud and obnoxious with their Napoleon complexes. Who is waking us so early in the morning? How rude! Is it another Jehovah’s Witness with their Watch Tower ideas or a Mormon to convert me to the altruistic ways of Joseph Smith? My life sucks. I have an entire day of cleaning and childcare. How am I suppose to clean the house, wash the car with such a small child under foot? My daughter is into exploring everything. She finds every crease, crack and hole in the place. I have several loads of dirty laundry waiting for me with my name on it; same goes for the clean ones. I tell my daughter no less than a hundred times a day to quit tormenting the dog let alone me. She does not want to listen to anybody. She is a bored and lonely child with no siblings. My 2007-04-25T20:34:08-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/The-Green-Green-Grass-33148.aspx A Simple Sacrifice "A Simple Sacrifice" Some people go to great lengths to attend the musical performance of their choice. Middle aged washed-up hippies donning Hawaiian shirts, parrot hats, and Caribbean-style beads, flock in a sea of bright and blinding colors to the obnoxious sounds of the man they call Jimmy Buffet. Thousands of screaming teenage girls swarm like the Black Plague and pay hundreds of dollars for a one-way ticket to hell to catch a glimpse of such mindless pop-cultures whores as N’ Sync and Britney Spears. For my friends and I, it was just a simple trip to Penn State’s main campus in the sweltering heat of a mid-July day in 2000 to see a band we followed religiously. The idea for this trip started as most concert-bound road trips do, with a group of ten indecisive teenagers who all gave their word they would be there when they heard the heaven-sent phrase, “Less Than Jake is coming.” The number of explorers on this expedition quickly dwindled to a final courageous group of four. The only four misfit youths to stick with our love for this band were Chris, Jay, Matt, and me. Chris, whose gelled hair fell forward like wet palm leaves in such a manner that I have never seen duplicated, was the fearless driver. Then there was Jay, who wore baggy clothes and had curly red hair that brought him to resemble a pumpkin as it sat on top of his stubby head, who was the youngest and had just recently convinced his parents to let out some slack on their leash of authority. Next was Matt, who stood at least six feet tall and had the super-human ability to put a smile on anyone’s face and pull him out of the deepest slums of depression with one of his dumb jokes or trite pick up lines. Finally, there was me, with a messy crop of short hair that had been dyed the glowing color called “wild fire”; I was just happy to be with my friends who I loved like brothers. As we arrived at State College’s main campus and realized that we had no tickets to this sold-out show, we all felt a little disappointed but swallowed the lumps in our throats and kept hope. After walking for an hour, our shoes seemed to stick to the hot pavement as we drudged along, unsuccessfully searching for 2007-04-25T20:31:24-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/A-Simple-Sacrifice-33146.aspx The Blue Rebellion The Blue Rebellion Why did dad send me here? He knew that Asuro was a corrupt company with a tendency for false advertising. Relaxing, exotic military colony my-ass. It’s more like planet of the damned. There’s not too much I can do about it now, though. Here I am on Pluto. I think it’s 2155, but after working in the mines for years I’ve pretty much stopped keeping track. All the miners work for at least 14 hours day, sweating in our enviro-suits and tediously working in the drillers, constantly searching for an iota of any sort of valuable metal. We have only 15 minutes to eat a meager, company-provided meal of trash. Everyday, the only color I see is blue. The entire planet gives off an iridescent indigo glow. I don’t even know if I can still see any other colors. To make things worse, a plague has been spreading through the mines, killing thousands of miners. No one knows the cause or the cure for the plague, but when people start to suddenly collapse and spasm around the mines, everyone becomes cautious. Cautious of something they cannot even identify. Asuro has hired mercenary guards to control the miners and keep us on task. They all treat us like shit. Lately, there have been wanted posters up all over the mines. Someone going by the name Sôl has started a revolution among the miners, calling themselves the Blue Rebellion. Sôl claims that Shyft, CEO of Asuro, is responsible for the plague as some sort of conspiracy. I don’t know about that, but the idea of a revolution seems pretty visionary. The miners outnumber the guards a thousand to one; we have a pretty good chance of overpowering them, even without any firepower. Well, until anything really happens, I’m still stuck here in these hellish mines, waiting for the day I am become free from this life. A life of slavery. “Kid! You there! Hey kid!” I came out of my daydream to hear a fellow miner calling me. “Hey kid, shift’s over; time to get some well-needed sleep.” I blankly glared at him, “I have a name, you know.” He raised an eyebrow at me and said, “Fine, kid. What’s your name?” I noticed that he 2007-04-18T15:17:47-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/The-Blue-Rebellion--32995.aspx Narrative of My Christmas Gift Narrative of My Christmas Gift It seems like all of my life I have been changing homes. Even as a toddler, I never really knew what it was to have a Mom and Dad. I did have a lot of temporary parents, but they were never stable. The impact that it had on my life was pretty tremendous. I went from home to home, never really understanding what it was that I would do wrong to get kicked out. Finally, I have moved in with a white family. It’s almost been a year now. This is my longest stay at a foster home. Mr. and Mrs. Smit have treated me a little differently than their biological child, considering the fact that I am a different color than they are. But I guess it’s better for me to be treated a little differently than be kicked out of their home. It’s fun having another child in the house. Sometimes Ann bugs me though. For example, when we play hide and seek, I’m always it. But every time she gets tagged, she’ll stop playing because she is tired. Or when she plays with her dolls, she won’t let me touch them. Not that I would want to. I don’t like playing with dolls anyway. I would rather be playing with my basketball. “Dinner is ready,” says Mrs. Smit. When we eat dinner, it is always the same. At six o’clock when Mr. Smit comes home, dinner is already set on the table. When we all sit down, the first thing that we do is pray. Usually Mr. Smit says the prayer, but his wife and Ann have done it too a couple of times. I’ve never said it though; I guess it’s a good thing because I wouldn’t know how to do it. After we are done eating, I usually clear the table. I remember back in the summer when the weather would be really hot. I would run outside when I was done. Now that it’s snowing, I just go back upstairs and play with Ann. Christmas is coming soon and I’m really excited. I’m hoping Santa will bring me a set of little race cars. I used 2007-03-06T22:26:17-05:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Narrative-of-My-Christmas-Gift-32749.aspx Vampires Unreal. That’s the only word I can think of to explain the way I feel. Slowly I stretch my arms out in front of me and touch my skin, examining the strange texture of it. It is no longer is the warm, dry smoothness that I am used to; now it is cold, soft but slightly rubber-like, the type of skin that only belongs to one type of person… A dead one. I throw the sheets off, pull myself to the side of the bed and turn my standing mirror towards me. My god…I have no idea who I’m looking at! What I do see looking back at me is a pale-as-a-ghost, half-naked, confused, twenty-five year old, re-animated dead man. “Jeeeezzzus Christ man, look what he did to you.” I think to myself as I touch my face, sending a cold chill down my spine. “This…is so not natural!” I run my hands through my knotted hair and look at the new, slightly altered (and I use that term very loosely) me; feeling like everything and nothing at all at the same time. It is going to take some getting used to, you know, being the living dead and all, and seeing as I really didn’t have much of a choice anyway. Confused as to my next step? Most definitely, and now I find myself just sitting here, staring at the blood-stained sheets by my feet, as the memories slowly start creeping back to me of that unforgettable night at that Bar I worked at and all the following strange events that led up to my unholy demise. [/color:26970cdb1d] [color=black:26970cdb1d] See, I lived in the Bronx; and the thing about living in that part of New York is that if you’re not too much of the social type, it can be a sickeningly lonely place, and it is so easy to get lost in the myriad of tall buildings and people of all shapes and sizes that littered the streets Twenty-four hours a day. I myself was a lonely man, with nowhere in particular to go except The Big Chugg Bar where I worked as a bartender every night except Wednesdays and Sundays. My routine life was really beginning to get to me, but really, there was nothing much I could do about it. I’d sleep from 7:00 a.m ‘till 4:00 p.m, exercise, get down to the bar by 5:30 p.m, work from 2007-02-19T17:27:31-05:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Vampires-32645.aspx Priorities Early for a dinner reservation on a cold wintery night, I stood in a parking garage vestibule watching two homeless men. One was black, one was white, both were dressed in the haphazard uniform of the streets. The smaller of the two sat on the sidewalk, leaning against the wall, his knees drawn up, head resting against the grimy brick, a smoldering cigarette hung from his mouth. The bigger man wore a navy-blue knit cap pulled down over his head. He had a dark scar on the bridge of his nose and his right hand was wrapped in a dingy ace bandage. This man was constantly on the move, as hyper-active as the other was lethargic. When there were no cars waiting at the traffic light and no pedestrians to intercept, he would pace, crossing the street at the light, turning left and crossing that street, turning left and crossing again, then back to where he'd started. Again and again he would repeat this drill, striding quickly from corner to corner to corner like some zoo animal pacing the limits of his territory. But whenever cars stopped for the red light he would quickly stalk to the driver's window of the first car and lean down, gesturing, demanding spare change from the driver. Rebuffed, he would indignantly move to the second and so on. One driver opened his window an inch and slipped a dollar bill through. Another driver, a young woman, actually drove away through a red light rather than face the tall, threatening man with the bandaged hand and the cut on his nose. The intersection was between me and my restaurant, and the aggressive one, with his constant pacing, was effectively covering both sides of the street. I realized I'd have to carefully time my passage to avoid him. The intersection became empty, and the big man made one complete circuit of the four corners, then approached his listless companion and, arms waving, began to deliver an animated one-way monologue. The smaller man turned his face against the wall and kicked weakly at the legs of the other who threw his arms up in the air in exasperation and turned back to the street, head swiveling, in search of new targets of opportunity. A taxi pulled to the curb and a pretty blond woman in a full-length red coat emerged. She was immediately confronted by the big aggressive man in the blue wool 2007-02-17T07:21:19-05:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Priorities--32635.aspx Scary Story NO! I don’t want to go! Let go of me, I don’t want to! “Well you have to and I’m not leaving you here! Trust me it’s a nice neighborhood and you’ll meet a lot of new friends. Now get in the car we’re going!” I didn’t want to move my little neighborhood I’ve known everyone in it since I was small, and this new place seemed so creepy. It was a long drive through the rain but we finally arrived at the house a little past midnight. It was a full moon and the clouds started to thin out, I had never seen the house before until now, it was so strange to me, it looked like it had a face it two huge windows for the eyes staring back at me. I had gotten the feeling that it didn’t want me there either. My mother was oblivious to the situation, “Wow doesn’t it look pretty at night” she said. I grabbed our bags and headed inside, it looked like it was going to rain again. My mom went inside first, she tried to turn a light on but the electricity went out from the storm. “I don’t want to stay in here! I want to go back home lets go to a hotel or something, please!” “Its okay will just sleep in the living room tonight.” We gathered around the fireplace and lit a small fire. She fell asleep fairly quickly and I stayed awake, or tried to. I did fall asleep for just a minute until I realized where I was, there was no way I would be able to go to sleep not in a place like this, and of all the places it had to be my new house. My eyes wondered around the room, darting across each corner. There! I heard something, it played over and over in my head so I could try and figure it out. It sounded like someone walking down the stairs towards the living room. There! Again! I know that’s what it is now my heart began to race I didn’t want to make a noise. It stopped, I quietly rolled over and nudged my mom “Mom, someone’s in the house, wake up.” She didn’t move, this time I started to shake her a little “ Mom really wake up” I rolled her over and started to 2007-02-16T05:41:03-05:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Scary-Story--32627.aspx Origin of the Eagle Origin of the Eagle One day a young 2007-02-16T05:40:32-05:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Origin-of-the-Eagle-32626.aspx Creative Writing Short Story: That Guy And His Chickens Creative Writing Short Story: That Guy And His Chickens A long long time ago, about when the dinosaurs were alive, there was a big fat ugly round red bird that flew furiously into a wall, and turned into a bigger dumber super retard. The super dumb retarded bird plummeted from the sky, like boulders sink in the big blue beautiful sea. It rolled furiously down a rocky bumpy rough jagged mountain and fell shamelessly into a big pitch black hole in the dusty floor. It lay there lifeless, motionless. A big, angry, annoying, desperate t-rex came waddling along and found the sorry sad dumb bird laying there, all alone in a big pitch black hole in the dirty floor. The big, bad, angry, desperate t-rex decided to take advantage of this time, and boldly raped it. When the fat dumb retarded round red bird awoke from its long slumber, it forgot it could fly, and climbed into a tree and layed some eggs. Then it fell from the big long endless tall tree. The gods in the heavens on their big heavenly, luscious, firm, round, beautiful, duel, milk like clouds, saw this, and started to laugh so hard until one of them fell off. When the gods face hit the earth, the impact was so hard that it killed all the dinosaurs on earth. Millions of years later, there was a bum in the streets of chopstick town, which is right beside fork town. This bum was very young he was abandoned at the age of five. He is now 15. His dream was to get filthy, stinking, rich so he could laugh and mock at all the people who left him to die. This young boy was all bones, and had long brown hair. He had heard of a gold rush in a near by area, and took advantage of this and stole a shovel, so he could dig up some gold. So here’s where his life really begins… The boy had a name once, but he couldn’t remember it. Well anyways, once he stole him self a good shovel, he set off to dig his hole that was to bring him great riches. He arrived at an empty wasteland, it was like a desert. All you could see was flat land for miles. But he was determined to get rich, so he put his shovel into the floor, and started digging. 2007-01-09T02:39:46-05:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Creative-Writing-Short-Story-That-Guy-And-His-Chickens-32313.aspx What Do Children Really Learn In School? What Do Children Really Learn In School? “Michael… Michael get up your going to be late for school” mom yelled. “Not again” I said, as I rolled out of my warm and comfortable bed into the floor. I dragged myself to the bathroom and splashed some cold water on my face. And then it hit me “Sarah!” Sarah was my girlfriend. We had grown up together, only living a few houses apart. Her hair was as black as night, witch set off her deep, blue hypnotic eyes. She had two storybook dimples, and a smile to match. Her southern accent, and country manner could charm the boots right off your feet. And her mature nature was far beyond that of most fourteen-year-old girls. Sarah was the down to earth type that would give you the shirt right off her back if it would help. And I loved her for that. I jumped in the shower, threw on some clothes and darted out the door. This was the second time this week I had been late to meet her. When I got to the bus stop I could tell by her frown that she wasn’t happy with me. I kissed her hello, she blushed a little and her look softened a bit. “Problems this morning?” she asked. “The usual,” I replied. She didn’t force the issue any farther than that. That was golden about Sarah; she never pushed buttons that didn’t need to be pushed. She got her point across with out saying much of anything. The bus arrived, and everyone got on. We headed to the back, were the older kids sat, and took our usual seats. Sarah and me had been going out now for close to a year. We had been through a lot of things together. She was my first girlfriend, my first kiss, and my first love. We sat there holding hands, and talking about our futures. She wanted to be a teacher, and I was going to be a doctor. We would get married, live in a big house, and have lots of children. We both knew that we would be together forever. When we got to the schoolhouse I kissed her, and said goodbye. Me being a year older than her we didn’t have any classes together, and rarely had time to see each other during school. I headed down the 2006-12-29T16:07:37-05:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/What-Do-Children-Really-Learn-In-School-32159.aspx True Story of an Internet Hacker True Story of an Internet Hacker It was a lonely Saturday night. The wind was howling through the branches of the old oak tree outside my window. The branches swayed back and forth, creating faint tapping and screeching sounds on the glass. And so, I sat… It was a night like any other; my music playing in the background and the room was illuminated only by the changing shades of green from my lava lamp. I waited. Suddenly, a came from the system unit of my computer, signaling that it was ready. I sat in my big leather chair, leant forward, and logged on. Immediately, the computer went through a series of programs, checking the system was operating correctly, and so on. The status bar reached 100% and the computer was now ready for action. I sat with the bright glare in my eyes. The once room, once light by a perpetually changing shade of green, was now light up with a brilliant sky blue. “Good evening, Dave. Would you like me to log on to the Internet?” It was a synthesized voice coming from the computer. It was a voice interface I had made by piecing together things my girl friend had said. I had it on the computer to remind me of her, and to give me hope that one day I would see her again. “Hmm…yeah, log me on.” I said. My voice was gaudy and weak. Although I had a voice interface, I rarely spoke, even though I used my computer 24/7, I’d normally use the keyboard and mouse. Still, having a voice interface was pretty nifty, but I couldn’t help but think that one day, it may not recognize my voice….it was getting worse by the day. The modem clicked. “Log on complete. Have a nice day.” It said. I almost broke down. I hadn’t heard this voice for some time….it brought back memories. I had forgotten what she sounded like…She? My god! I’d started to think that this machine was my girl friend. ‘The late nights must be getting to me.’ I thought “Thanks.” I said. I could hardly stand it…it felt like there was a rock in my throat; you know the one I mean? When you’re upset and you feel like your going cry? Well, anyway, I cracked my knuckles, for no reason 2006-12-18T20:13:33-05:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/True-Story-of-an-Internet-Hacker-32028.aspx An Interesting Turn of Events An Interesting Turn of Events “Face it,” my brother said, “We’re lost.” “Your telling me, we might as well just lie down and start to rot. “We’ll never get out of here alive, I mean look at this place, it’s a jungle.” I wasn’t being serious when I said we’d rot, but I wasn’t that far off either. I could see my brother pacing around in circles with a disgusted sort of puzzled look on his face, I just knew it was a matter of time before he snapped when all of a sudden he looked up at me. “I’m sorry.” I said, hoping he’d back off. “I’m sorry?” He repeated. “That’s all you have to say, sorry’s a sorry word Gretel and you have no right, you… As he yelled in my face I heard a loud screech and a sudden thump. “Did you hear that?” I asked. “Hear what?” Jason replied. “Come on lets go check it out!” As we raced down the road the same way Theas car sped off we’re clueless to what we’ll encounter, when all of a sudden we see Theas car, half on the road and half off. She lost control and her car was stuck in the forest mud, the only thing holding her Beamer up was a tree which she slightly dented her bumper on. As we slowly approached the car we see the drivers side door open with a bunch of Theas precious stuff spilled out. We look up the road and see Thea pacing further down. Jason and I quickly chase after her to check if she’s all right. As soon as we were about to call her name out, she slams down her cell phone shattering it into pieces. “Damn cell phone, I knew I should have threw that contract back in his face.” “Thea” I call out, completely out of breath. “Great I couldn’t even wreck far enough so you wouldn’t find me.” “Well, I wasn’t the one who…” “Enough you two!” My brother interrupted. “We’ve got to get out of here, and we have to do this together. Lets head back down the road.” Thea and I were still mad at each other but we knew Jason was right and we had to put our anger on hold. As we slowly walked in the opposite direction we once again pass Theas car, I 2006-12-07T19:28:27-05:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/An-Interesting-Turn-of-Events-31932.aspx Original Creation Myth Long ago the Goddess of Beginnings gave birth to two sons, the first she named Surya and the last Shyam. Surya and Shyam were very close at first, but as they grew older they began to grow apart. Shyam was handsome and strong – he was looked up too by all his peers; Surya was a genius, he knew everything there was to know but he was very reserved and wasn’t well known throughout his homeland. Surya wanted to prove himself; he wanted to do something that Shyam had never done, something brilliant and wild. Surya spent many days locked up in his dwellings, formulating his plan. When Surya finally emerged he went to his father to ask his permission to carry out this plan, and his father, after a few hours of careful thought and intense persuasion from Surya, agreed. Surya gathered the soil of his homeland into his palm, and with both hands he compressed and molded it into a sphere. He threw his arms up into the air, tossing the sphere of soil into the Cosmos, were it grew and grew into a land which he later named Earth. Surya leapt to his land and looked it over carefully; his land would need habitants but how should he make them? Finally, Surya drew blood from his wrist and from that blood he made man, and from the man’s blood he made woman to keep the man company and to produce new men. Surya named these beings humans, the humans would become the top of the food chain, they would control and make their own destinies. The humans would need many things to survive, Surya decided, so he rested for awhile before beginning again. He wiped his hand across his forehead, and slung the sweat onto the ground, creating the great oceans and rivers of Earth that would hydrate and sustain his humans. He inhaled deeply and blew out across the land, creating the winds that would cause the ocean currents and provide relief from the heat. From his flesh he created raccoons, rabbits, bears, sheep, and other animals for the humans to feed on; but these animals would need to eat too, so Surya used the hair from his arms to create the grass and foliage that the animals would live on. Surya scraped off part of his fingernail and used that to 2006-11-24T15:13:54-05:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Original-Creation-Myth-31831.aspx Made a Fairy Godmother Emily Jean Made Fairy Godmother Emily Jean Once upon a time their lived a powerful god. His name was Ra and he was the god of the sun. Ra was a very powerful god, but a very lonely god as well for he was having trouble finding true love. Until the tenth night of Hallows Eve, when at a ballroom masquerade Ra found himself drawn to a particular beauty in the room. Her name was Emily Jean and she was an Enchantress. Ra waited patiently for the Enchantress to be introduced. His minion captured her attention and with meager accord introduced Emily Jean to Ra. Upon their meeting a spark landed upon the shoulder of the Enchantress, both she and Ra noticed how instead of absorbing into her skin it was deflected and fell to the ground. The Enchantress stood watching as it faded into the earth. "What is it that keeps such a beautiful maiden sad?" asked the Sun God. "Oh it is a terrible curse that has been placed upon me. An Evil Wizard, which to whom I must return before dawn," replied the Enchantress. "Well that is many hours away. Sit down, my dear and lets share some of this great food and wine." The Enchantress and the God enjoy exchanged great tales of triumph and woe. They become dear friends and reveal some of their secrets. The Enchantress told her tale of the Evil Wizard and in exchange heard about the malicious princess that had been invading his palace. The stories are inspirational and their bond of friendship seems to be one that could last eternity. Before she leaves, Ra explained how he wanted to free Emily Jean of the evil wizard that has her bound by spoken spell The Sun God promises to come to her when once he's figured out a clever plan. It took some time, but eventually Ra devised a plan to free the Enchantress from the wizard. Ra decided to make Emily Jean a Fairy Godmother. Beautiful, talented, smart and helpful… the Enchantress met all the criteri. Ra's plan would work. Emily Jean would outlive the wizard and therefore his spell. Everyone knows Fairy Godmother's live longer than wizards because each time a wizard uses his Majik it ravishes their youth and ages them so. Yet some wizards, those that are wise and do not abuse their power, can reverse the aging process by using their 2006-11-15T17:41:36-05:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Made-a-Fairy-Godmother-Emily-Jean-31744.aspx The Test Drive The Test Drive! With five thousand dollars in my pocket, I sat anxiously in the passenger seat of my uncle’s car. Why was I so anxious? I know why, because I was on my way to buy my very first car. I was seventeen at that time and had worked like a dog throughout my sophomore and junior years in high school to come up with five thousand dollars. And getting a car with my hard earned money was a very big thing for me. What really followed that day of my first car shopping is an experience I will remember for a long time to come. My uncle is a car dealer. He had promised to take me to the GRAA, a “dealers only” car auction held in Rockford every week. The GRAA is a used car auction where car dealers get their used cars at dirt-cheap prices and then sell them at jacked up prices. That’s why I was there, to get a very nice car at a very low price. It was the month of January and the weather forecast predicted a snowstorm later that day. We finally arrived at the auction house around 9 o’ clock. As soon as I got out of the car, a gust of cold air hit me. The temperature was roughly fourteen degrees and God knows what the wind chill was; I was cold. No! Not just plain cold but very cold. What a relief, we got to step inside the auction house and a man checked my uncle’s dealer license. After seeing it the man led us into the main auction hall. The hall was packed with people and all I could hear was the auctioneer mumbling as loud as he could. I looked at my uncle and saw him signaling me to follow him. Soon we were standing outside in a very big parking lot with at least a thousand cars in it. On top of everything I was not feeling cold anymore. Even though I was outside in the same weather that I had encountered five minutes ago. Some how I had no time to feel cold. My uncle led me to a small Hyundai and we got inside. He started the engine and took the car to a strip of straight roadway, a part of the auction facility where 2006-10-31T22:24:39-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/The-Test-Drive-31642.aspx A Life's Story A Life's Story I was brought into life at 9:59 a.m. on February 25,1983. I was the second grandchild to be born in the family. I was born at St. Joseph’s Hospital in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. I was 7lbs. 9 oz and 19 in. long when I was born. I had a head full of curly black hair and some big dark brown eyes. I was short most of my life until the age of thirteen and I had a gigantic growth spurt. Now I am taller than most of the girls my age. My full name is______________, I got my name because my brother’s name is ______and she wanted her children to have similar names, so she decided to name me Nicole. I was a healthy, energetic, quiet, and content baby girl who loved apples, (which was my first word.) I am seventeen years old soon to be eighteen in a couple of days. I believe that I look exactly the same I did when I was younger. I now weigh 130lbs. and I am 5’7. Some people who have influenced me greatly are my mom, my 8th grade teacher Mrs. Benson, and an assistant at this school, Ms, Sheila. My mom was the first person I chose because she gave me so much and still continues to do so. She is a great woman, who although has made some mistakes she has overcome them and taught me to do the same. I commend my mom because she dropped out of school to take care of my grandmother while she was in the hospital and I know that was very hard for her, but because of her love she did it anyway. " You’re best is all that count’s," the most memorable quote from my mom. The next person that comes to mind is my 8th grade teacher Mrs. Benson. She influenced me because she was more than a teacher, but also a friend. Ms. Benson never gave up on me or never allowed me to give up on myself. Even though she is no longer my teacher I still remember all the lessons I learned from being apart of her class. I would also like to mention a lady named Mrs. Sheila. She is more than just the lady at the 2006-10-29T21:46:07-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/A-Life-s-Story--31617.aspx Allegories Allegories Kaitlin Jones was a normal seven-year-old girl. She had lots of toys, and she played with them all. But she liked PattyDoll the best. PattyDoll enjoyed this attention very much. “Guess what!?” exclaimed PattyDoll as she burst into the toy chest at exactly 8:45 on Tuesday night; “ Kaitlin’s mom made me a new dress today! I was so nice. Kaitlin said it was beautiful- just like me. Then we had a tea party!” “I know. I was there,” said Teddy. He was Kaitlin’s big stuffed bear. He was also considered the ‘leader’ of the toys. He made all the executive decisions and all the other toys went to him if they had a problem or needed to talk. “Me, too!” added Raggedy Ann. Raggedy Ann was the silent type. Most of the time. That is, except for when PattyDoll boasted like this. It really made Raggedy angry. “So? It doesn’t matter if you were there,” PattyDoll said harshly, “Kaitlin loves me best. She takes me with her wherever she goes. She always wants her mom to sew new clothes for me. She plays with me the most. I’m her favourite. You guys are just jealous because I’m so beautiful. All of you!” With that PattyDoll turned on her heel and stormed out of the toy chest, straight to the special doll cradle where she slept every night. * * * The next day, while PattyDoll was at the park with Kaitlin, the other toys had a meeting. Teddy was sitting atop a stack of books, and the rest were siting in a circle on the floor around him. They were discussing PattyDoll. “She makes me feel so small,” said Raggedy Ann, “I just wish she wasn’t so mean to us.” “I know what you mean, Raggedy,” exclaimed Barbie, “This morning I asked her if she wanted to join me for my jog around the house. She just gave me a look and said, ‘why would I jog with you? You’re not as pretty as me.’ It made me so sad! I wish Kaitlin would play with me like she plays with her.” She started to cry. “I wish I was beautiful!” she sobbed. “You are,” said Ken, “C’mon, you’re Barbie!” “I know, but still.” It was then that 2006-10-29T21:24:26-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Allegories--31609.aspx A Rainy Day Reading A Rainy Day Reading It was a rainy day, similar to those that one wants to stay home, make a cup of coffee and relax, watching favorite TV program. I decided that it was a day for me when I wanted to do something different. I started going over my homework assignments, and here it was, idea of going to Dutton’s bookstore. The weather was very cold and rainy. It was not a long drive, since I live on Fulton and Oxnard, in a few minutes I was there. I parked my car and went to the bookstore. Same old and my favorite Dutton’s Bookstore. Every time I go to Dutton’s I discover new things for my self. Every time I look at it differently. More I go more carefully I look around. I see things that are new to me, in reality there are old and they have been there forever, I did not pay enough attention to them last time. As I walked in to Dutton’s this time, first thing that caught my eye was a book called “Life is a movie”. Isn’t that right? Our whole life is a movie. Then I went to music section, where they had all the music books. That was time when I realized that there was music playing in the bookstore. It matched with the environment perfectly. They had classical music on, which made the environment of the bookstore even more comfortable. This time I looked around and asked my self, “What do I see new this time?” One might think that after visiting the same bookstore too many times, you won’t find anything new. That doesn’t apply to Dutton’s. Each time I go there is something new there. This time I was amazed by a picture that they had on a wall. I was looking around and something very colorful caught my eye. It was a beautiful picture hanging on the wall, hidden in the back by some boxes where nobody would even think to look for books. I didn’t quiet understand what it was but to me it was an island. It was very different picture, one of those that you have to look at carefully to find a meaning in it. Dutton’s is very unique not only because of the books that they have but because those entire different things that one might see, if they only 2006-10-28T19:49:50-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/A-Rainy-Day-Reading-31596.aspx The Wake-Up Call The Wake-Up Call I was walking around the campus after my first class ended. I saw a crowd of students watching the breaking news. I asked one girl what was it all about, and she said "Some terrorists high jacked two airplanes filled with passengers, and crashed them at the world trade Buildings." Then unpleasant images portrayed in my mind when I was watching the video clip of the tragedy. Some people were fearful, and some people don’t even know what to do. The majority of them wanted to retaliate. As reactions were shown to such destructive action, a thought came over my head. I thought to myself, "People kill people. What good dos it bring if obliterating numerous human beings was the only way to satisfy one's revenge. My day started really well until I heard the depressing and tormenting news. I cannot get that deadly picture out of my mind, and I probably will not ever. A lot of questions rose up in my head. For instance, how could someone do such a horrifying vitality amongst innocent people? How could killing human kind be a solution to what may be the problems of such action made by the U.S. I can picture what we are going to encounter in the future if the United States decides to retaliate. The U.S. has the most powerful weaponry known. So, if U.S. retaliates then we possibly open the door to world war III. Unlike other wars, I predict that this is the war where there are no places to hide. I believe that this is a test of our faith and intelligence. So, hopefully we will prove them that we will act and resolve the problem in the less destructive way. I believe that we should show them we are not selfish. We should not retaliate with no strong evidence rather than just blaming. The people have unanswered questions. It helps when we all talk it out and maybe we might answer some of the doubts and confusion. "United we stand, divided we fall." We need to do this all together. Destruction is evil but if we do not do anything then we will be casualties. I believe that we are divided because of our ignorance. It is a shame devoting and accepting yourself as a U.S. citizen by singing the national anthem, when we just diminish our own brothers and sisters. 2006-08-31T17:45:53-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/The-Wake-Up-Call-31399.aspx Life Goes On! Life Goes On! I was brought to the hospital by the ambulance. Very thin and exhausted on all levels. I looked like if someone had sucked out all the life out of me. My cheeks were sunk in, my skin was very pail and I had the look of death on my face. I must have been relieved to be where I was. This last six months were about to shape my next 10 years. It was very much the turning point of my life. All I owned was the clothes I was in. A pair of blue jeans, a white t-shirt and a leather jacket. To be fair on myself I wasn't aware of a lot that was happening. Hallucinations were happening a lot. There was no regular sleep, a lot of vomiting and starvation diets, everything was random with the occasional moments of clarity. Knowing something was terribly wrong. I remember late one night thinking to myself that i had to do something about my problem which became an obsession. I was always tired, a tiredness no sleep could fix. The weight of the world was on my shoulders and it wasn't going to go away. The moments of clarity were more frightening than any hallucinations. My parents came to visit which helped me be strong. What a quick turn around. Six months earlier I had told them about the new job offering I received and sent them copies my housing contract. I felt very grown up. Successful. Now I was on a death bed, drugged, weak and depressed. I was admitted a few days before they arrived. They went into "what can we do mode." They brought me some shirts, an extra pair of pants, socks and underwear. Much later Dad told me how I made him laugh when they asked if I wanted anything. I replied "Yes, food and lots of it!" My friend Karen came on that visit as well. Apparently they had to wait around for ages to get in. As they walked through the door I felt this incredible pain in my spine which arched my back and made it hard for me to call out. Fortunately the pain only lasted a few seconds. My new world was a lot of mixed emotions. I was in a room which seemed to me, more like prison cell. The door had a tiny window that looked 2006-08-27T15:46:15-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Life-Goes-On--31309.aspx Snow White’s Awakening Snow White’s Awakening Snow White lays asleep in her bed, awaiting a kiss form her prince charming. Suddenly her wooden bed turns to metal and the pictures of flowers transform into posters of Blink-182. In strides a young man with baggy pants and a blue Mohawk. In the background we hear the sounds of freeway congestion: horns blowing, music blaring, irate people screaming and tires screeching. "Prince Charming" bends down and kisses her. Slowly she awakens, sits up and screams, “Ohhhhhh myyyyyyy gawd! Where am I?" Prince charming replies with a brief answer, "Why you're in L.A. sweet thing!" Confusion crosses the young woman's face as she stands up and looks around. "Come on baby, we're going to be late for da concert," explains P.C. (prince charming). "Concert? What's a concert?" asks the bewildered and frightened Snow White. She then asks, "And who are you? You don't look like Doc." "Well I am P.C., cuz I'm your prince charming sweetie," he replies with a smirk. So they leave the tattered apartment, and begin to walk down the street to where P.C. parked his car. (Snowie was in her ballroom gown.) They stop at a Hot Topic store to buy Snowie (Snow White) a "concert outfit." Snowie flatly refuses to go inside, secretly wondering if she had died and gone to the underworld to visit Pluto. (Pluto was the god of the underworld in old times Greek mythology). So P.C. goes inside alone. They stop at a filthy restroom for Snowie to change into her outfit, all the while arguing whether or not she should wear it. Finally she gives in, and consents to wear the black leather pants and grungy Korn tee shirt. Snow White began to enjoy herself. She was strutting her stuff in P.C.'s bright purple 1970 convertible Impala. She was amazed at all the tall metal buildings, for she had only seen one story wooden ones in her lifetime. They arrived at the Staples Center shortly, and Snow White was trying to hide her immense fear. Eventually her fears turned into excitement! She was enjoying herself-that is until the concert started. She had never heard such awful noise. She plugged her ears and laid down. Soon the sounds of ruckus began to fade. Suddenly she felt 2006-08-12T15:24:41-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Snow-White’s-Awakening-31238.aspx Coming Home Coming Home It had been almost four years since I had visited my father’s homestead. When I first laid eyes on the rough, unhewn piece of property it was a mere shell of the magnificently nurtured piece of land that now lie before me. From a quarter mile up the winding gravel road I began to feel my father’s unique and unmistakable presence. My father, maybe a half century old, somehow embraced an even older, forgotten set of rules. A set of rules that said things built with your hands were things built better. I drove up slowly, a futile attempt at keeping my shiny red car clean in the inevitable plume of dust. My late model automobile seemed a futuristic time machine in the rustic surroundings. Roger, my father’s ancient, salt and pepper toned Australian sheepdog, ambled up slowly with his usual vacant and friendly stare. I greeted Roger with a warm hug, forgetting in my delight that I would smell of dog and horse for the rest of my day. My eyes caught a flash of sun off the creek in the distance, a silvery ribbon meandering through the evergreens. I recalled crisp mornings spent charming trout with hook and line. To my left was the wooden corral containing the friendly beasts that shared my fondest childhood memories. The old stalwarts were there. Bonfire, a muscular horse with a chestnut coat and a docile manner. Dusty, the old buckskin that was great with children and my father’s preferred mount. And Jake, the huge and ornery black mule my father enlisted to pack supplies. There were also several unfamiliar horses. So the years bring new faces. To my right stood a new hay barn. Built tall and strong with fresh wood and my father’s skilled hands. Under its twenty-foot roof sat a towering stack of sweet smelling, lime green hay. Just more than enough, for my father was not to be caught off guard by the occasional harsh winter or late spring growth. The roof cascaded down longer on one side to house what was most likely a saddle shed. The entire structure gave off a stern sense of efficiency. As I started towards the house I felt the twinge of excitement and anxiety one gets when seeing a loved one after a long separation. The house, constructed with enormous logs stacked atop each other and interconnected at the corners, looks as if it 2006-08-05T15:21:54-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Coming-Home--31043.aspx My Traffic Accident My Traffic Accident It was just an other rainy day. I was going to a basketball game with some friends. As I was walking out of the door my mother said “Drive carefully son it’s awfully slippery out there”, I ignored her like always but just replied, “Yes mother I will!” After watching the basketball game we headed back to my friends house. The rain had picked up. The traffic was heavy in the small residential streets as the main road was under construction. I was maneuvering my way around the packed roads until I arrived to a two-way stop sign intersection. There were long lines of cars trying to cross the street. I was cursing the cars in the front of me for taking such a long time crossing the small intersection. I waited for about five – ten minutes for my turn to get the intersection. When I was finally at the intersection I realized the harsh reality. It seemed like that all the traffic was taking a detour through his neighborhood. I waited for a long time hoping some one in the passage of cars would be courteous enough to stop and let me cross. Then I remembered this was the new millennium the great old values were left in the last century. I tried many times to make daring moves but the flow of traffic never seemed to stop. Suddenly my luck changed an old lady was trying to cross the street in the same direction as I was. As she stepped in to the street suddenly the traffic stopped. I decided to make full use of this golden opportunity. I started to cross the street slowly. As I arrived near the center of the intersection I realized that the other side of the traffic was still moving. My old $500 Ford didn’t have the best brakes in the world. The car went a few inches in to the path of the traffic. Suddenly from my right side I saw a white van coming towards us like a raging bull set lose. The driver of the van thought that he was going to hit me so he slammed his brakes. The van slid right past me it did a 360-degree turn, it then went over the sidewalk and almost ran over a couple of pedestrians. I was scared so I floored the car and 2006-08-05T11:04:58-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/My-Traffic-Accident-31023.aspx I Am An American… I Am An American… “Come on baby! All you need is to land that Triple axle and double loop perfectly and gold is all yours!” What probably makes me most proud to be an American is when you are cheering for your nation in a sport especially in the Olympics. In this case I was cheering for this American who was competing in ice-skating in the 2002 Winter Olympics in Salt Lake City. I mean here’s a sport I’ve never even watched or tried, but yet the excitement of rooting for your own country is probably the greatest rush of pride you will ever have. And when your nation has come out victorious, you will feel one hundred percent complete American in your heart. The feeling is just incredible. Born in San Diego, CA, I am a natural born American Citizen also known as the new generation of Hmong people because I, like many other Hmong teenagers were first to be born in the United States. The new breed of Hmong has been born, and to Hmong parents all over the nation, this symbolizes a new beginning. My parents became U.S. Citizens after living here for 13 years. So now my whole family of ten are all American citizens except for my oldest brother who was born in Thailand. What makes my family different from any other Hmong Families if the fact that we are a fairly Americanized family because living here for over twenty years, my family is adapting to the new ways much faster than other Hmong families but at the same time we still keep our old traditions alive. I can safely say that I am only 50 percent American at home because it’s not that I have to, but its the fact that I want too. So do I ever feel fully American? At times I am. Like when the events of September 11th took place, basically all citizens of all race to colors had to show our strength and not let anything like that get us on our knees. Like the last sentence in our National Anthem, “and the home of the Brave.” We are a nation that will bulldoze anything down that stands in our way when we stand tall and brave together as one. One thing for sure that Americans will never let anyone try to take away from them is 2006-08-01T20:24:36-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/I-Am-An-American…--30990.aspx Car Theft Car Theft With the TV. on and my mom asleep I found myself in a predicament. With my mind open and my knees bouncing I searched the house looking for something to do. After several laps around the house I bound a pone my moms keys. Without hesitation I bolted out the back door like slowly shutting it behind me . Jumping the fence and approaching the car I finally decided to get in. already knowing how to drive, I wasn’t nervous. Leaving the lights off so that the glare wouldn’t seep into my moms window right in front of me I slowly but surly back out off our driveway, approaching Montgomery road from our no outlet street. Looking for any sing of trouble I drove on thinking to my self, well I drove this far a little more wont hurt. I soon approached the intersection next to Walgreen’s, with a green light I kept driving, soon to see two police men posted on the side of the street waiting for reckless drivers. I tried quickly thinking of something to do to avoided passing them. I decided that It would be best to just drive by them and keep my cool. Staying in the lane and keeping my eye off of them not to create suspicion, I heard an abrupt yelling from them. Looking around it was apparent that they were yelling at me. So like any true American would do I tried to loose them. I turned the street right over a hill so they couldn’t see me. Not going over the speed limit I wounded down several side streets hopping I had lost them. As I drove I began to notice why the police were yelling. When I was on Montgomery road I could see very well but on these side streets it was like I was blind, finally realizing that I had never turned my lights on when I had backed out of my drive way, I began cursing to my self , hitting the dash board thinking how I could have been so stupid. After turning my lights on I pulled onto a no outlet street parking close to the end thinking that they wouldn’t come down here, I sat trying 2006-08-01T19:56:53-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Car-Theft--30977.aspx Descriptive Writing of Family Weekend Descriptive Writing of Family Weekend The sun shined bright and blazed hot that summer, a summer more than a few years back but not at all that long ago. In the San Joaquin Valley is where our tale lies...surrounded by mountains and rolling hills where you see grazing cattle meandering in an ever coil up the steep golden rises, here perched on the side of a treacherous highway sits a large Flea Market. This market has an unmistakable giant red barn and when days are good the place is filled to the brim with customers and the sounds of haggling, rambunctious children, and their parent’s scolding remarks. Every weekend the Canezales family would set up their two stands, one for the fruit and vegetables that Antoinetta picked from her garden and cluster of fruit trees at their meager home, and the second, a couple stands down and across, was where Marcos would make and repair zapatos. Now their other children were older and either had families of their own or worked for other farms. But their youngest, who was about eleven, helped them down at the Flea-market. His name was Poncho or Ponchito depending on who addressed him. He always sang in ‘spanglish’ while he played a cheap little guitarra to entice people to come buy his mother’s good produce. His mother was a polite and slightly talkative middle-aged woman whom everyone loved mostly because she was down to earth and treated people as if they were of her own flesh & blood. No one was a stranger in her eyes. Marcos, stern yet humorous like many good fathers, was quite skillful at making and repairing shoes even though it was a side job of his. He regularly worked as a mechanic at a friend’s car garage during weekdays. The couple made just enough to fill their families bellies and buy decent clothes ever so often but the love they shared filled in many, if not all, of the gaps in their tattered finances. One busy market day Antoinetta was tending her stand surrounded by a couple fresh baskets of lettuce, one of peaches, one filled with tomatoes, and another of various chili peppers. As usual Ponchito was strumming his slightly out-of-tune guitar to the likeness of an estranged version of the Three 2006-08-01T18:59:29-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Descriptive-Writing-of-Family-Weekend-30958.aspx A Modern Bisclavret A Modern Bisclavret Although climbing the same black, rusted stairway to his third floor Brooklyn apartment reminded him of the absence of luxury in his life, Peter was nevertheless happy to return home to his loving lady after a grueling day of masonry. Spending eight hours on your knees, hunched over a slab of concrete would however, make returning to his humble abode seem like returning to a town house in the upper-east side to most people. Roxanne’s day was much like Peter’s in that trying to teach 37 eleven year olds with a two minute attention span when the subject is anything other than the Yankees, how to do long division, can be as exhausting as laying bricks. Not to mention Roxanne’s day wasn’t over at the two thirty bell. She supervised the school’s recreational program, which required her presence every day because nobody else wanted to spend their afternoon organizing and sometimes even participating in everything from kickball to jump rope. Roxanne and Peter’s day ended at about the same time so they would often ascend those steps together, hand in hand, mindless of the day’s finished labor and rejuvenated by the presence of one another. The other man in Roxanne’s life was her father who she loved dearly despite his sometimes violently irritable temperament, a result of his addiction to booze and a liver on the verge of a break down. Roxanne supported her father completely. She knew it was pathetic that her father was so irresponsible and that he found no shame in expecting his daughter to pay his medical bill, and so did Peter, who would have been furious to know that his wife was financially supporting a worthless drunk, even if it was her father, but forced by love, she did it anyway. Unfortunately the weekly checks from the public school system were barely enough to sustain herself and her life with Peter, let alone her dying father so she had to do something else. Every time Roxanne’s father would find her and introduce a new financial request, she would put on her red dress and sell her body. She knew this was a despicable act, but it was like there was no choice. She would have sacrificed her own life for her father, letting him waste away was not an option. 2006-08-01T10:36:19-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/A-Modern-Bisclavret-30938.aspx My Perfect World My Perfect World I arrived at my office neither late nor early, because in my world there is no concept of time. I stepped off of the teleport pad onto a moving hallway. The state of the art machine quickly whisked me away to my 112th floor office atop one of the tallest buildings in the world. I did not know what day it was because again in this world there was nothing that kept track of the time, there wasn’t even any sun or moon for that matter. The day and night cycle was nonexistent, there was a constant light shining upon everyone. This light was always at a standard temperature; a person was never hot or cold but always “just right”. People never sleep in this world, for if they do they would miss half of their life. At birth the node that keeps track of the human rest cycle is surgically removed and in its place, a microchip is inserted. This microchip would produce proteins and hormones that would keep the body going at a constant state. Also implanted into the brain are memory chips that serves a person’s long term memory, and RAM that serves a person’s short term memory. These two features help a person in their everyday life. For example if a student needed information for a test he would access his memory banks for the piece of information he needed and would retrieve it. Memory loss, and Alzheimer’s are nonexistent. Everyone’s memory is linked and stored together at a large mainframe database at the center of the earth. No one has ever seen this place so that is why I cannot describe it in full detail. This “Memory Bank” as we call it has everyone’s thoughts and memories on file. If a person pays a fee (depending on whose brain one wants to access) then he could download his/her thoughts and memory into his own database, thus solving the problems of war and crime. My planet is similar to your Earth except that all of the geography is habitable. We have colonized the ocean to support our ever-growing population. My Earth is not divided up into countries or territories for that only leads to war and suffering. Instead people are all run by a computer. At birth we are given a randomly generated path for life or 2006-07-31T18:50:57-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/My-Perfect-World-30898.aspx The One Eyed Wonder The One Eyed Wonder The man came out of surgery around midnight after about three hours of surgery and was in critical condition, said hospital spokeswoman Pam Lepley. She said his injuries were still life 2006-07-31T18:49:53-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/The-One-Eyed-Wonder-30897.aspx Rollin’ On Main Street Rollin’ On Main Street Last weekend, a couple friends and I took a road trip to Cincinnati. Here we saw many of our favorite bands perform during the evening on Main Street. Having never seen any of the artists’ play live before, we were all very thrilled to be in Cincinnati on that night. Not only was the music enough, but the atmosphere of a big city and the smell of funnel cakes made it that much better. The people, as well as the weather, couldn’t have been any nicer. Putting all of this together, you couldn’t have had a better night for dancin’. “Rollin’ On Main Street” was a concert in the heart of downtown Cincinnati. The artist appearing varied from guitarist Jack Johnson to rap artists The Roots. A local radio station set up four stages, and each one had a different band playing on them constantly. The first stage we watched was being played on by one of my favorites, Jack Johnson. His music is smooth, but always with a catchy beat, and the crowd loved it. People all around me did not hesitate to dance as if no one was watching them, but I couldn’t blame them. Personally, I was caught up in the energy coming from the stage and couldn’t help but dance myself. After a while of jamming from Jack Johnson, my friends and I decided to go and see John Meir perform on another stage nearby. Honestly I was looking forward to seeing the supposedly new talented musician, but only had all expectations ruined the second I laid my eyes on him. He came out on stage, hair gelled up and wearing a not so masculine headband. I stayed and laughed at him for about five minutes, and then decided to go back to the stage we had come from. Here, the old school hip-hop crew The Roots would perform. The second I saw the stage I knew the concert would be exactly what I thought. Thousands of yelling fans dancing to the unique beats the DJ spun on stage. The show had more energy than a dog in a cage, and you could tell the MC’s new it. They were hoppin’ around the stage, getting the crowd to feel the music more. At the end of their set, one of the rappers made his own beats with his mouth, 2006-07-31T12:36:36-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Rollin’-On-Main-Street-30879.aspx Excitement of Playing Paintball Excitement of Playing Paintball I was sitting hunched, waiting. I was watching for the other team coming down the driveway. I saw them. Dylan and Kyle went off to the right. Mike W. was hiding farther up the road. They found him and took him out. Then I saw Dexter coming up behind us. Justin and Jimmers saw us. I stood up and exchanged fire. “Oh crap, Justin’s on fully auto,” Charlie said. I heard splat after splat. Aaron came up behind us. I told him to watch out because Dexter was back out there. There was so much scrub brush you couldn’t even shoot back there. I told Seth to see if he could get at Dexter. So he left into the brush. Then I saw Dylan and Kyle run across the road to our side. I then knew Mike D. was out because he was hiding where they came from. I gave some shots toward them but didn’t connect. Seth came back and said he couldn’t even get close. Then Aaron came walking out of the brush with his hands up. “I’m out,” he said. “O man now we’re two men down,” I said. At this time Justin and Jimmers are watching us. Once in awhile they would give us a “Hey we’re still here shot” but we knew they hadn’t moved. Then Justin put his hands up. “I’m out of paint, I’m done, don’t shoot,” he said with disappointment. Then I saw Charlie preparing for something. I could see this strange look in his eye through the glazed lenses in his facemask. He then said, “Troy, cover me, I’m taking him out!” “Ok, do it Charlie,” I replied. He jumped to his feet and started firing. Doosch, doosch, doosch! “Aww I’m hit, stop firing I’m hit, I’m hit,” were the words from Jimmers mouth. “Ya, way to go Charlie-o-marly!” I said to Charlie. Then at that moment, splat, splat, splat, one after another! We were scrambling around like decapitated chickens! “Where are they coming from!?” Seth yelled. “Just run,” Charlie screamed. “Go, go, Seth some on!” I said as I was pushing Charlie to hurry. Charlie jumped out the front of the trailer 2006-07-30T11:51:01-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Excitement-of-Playing-Paintball-30806.aspx The Story of the Pearl The Story of the Pearl One morning, a morning that seemed like any other, Kino and his wife as usual got up and started breakfast. This wasn’t like any other day though. Coyotito, the baby, was just waking up when all of a sudden Juana and Kino noticed there was a scorpion on the baby’s hanging crib. Kino slowly walked over and tried to grab the scorpion but it fell on the baby and stung it. The family went to the town doctor with the baby but the unscrupulous doctor wouldn’t see them because they didn’t have any money. So the family left depressed, the baby’s arm was swelling and it seemed to be getting worse. Juana, the baby’s mother, tried to put a few bits of seaweed, which should have helped, but it didn’t. Kino went pearl hunting as usual but this day he found a huge very valuable pearl. Everyone heard about it in town, the doctor knew it was Kino who had arrived at his house earlier that day. The doctor went to Kino’s house to check on the baby. He pretended that the baby was about to die, he gave the baby some medicine and Kino told the doctor he would pay him when he received the money for his pearl. The next morning, Kino went to try to sell his pearl, but the pearl dealers had already talked and decided to tell Kino that the pearl was fake and not worth anything. Kino knew how much the pearl was worth and when the pearl dealers told him that it wasn’t worth a lot of money he became very angry. He told them that they were liars and they didn’t know what they were talking about. He became very scared and every night when he was about to go to sleep he hid the pearl, because he knew that people were trying to steal it. The reason being that someone had already tried to steal it. One night Juana woke up and tried to go out into the ocean and throw the pearl away, but Kino ran after her, hit her in the face, so that she fell down into the water. He was walking back to the house when a dark man attacked him; he killed the man because he was trying to take his pearl. Kino knew then that he had to 2006-07-27T15:27:55-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/The-Story-of-the-Pearl-30740.aspx Story of the Heist Story of the Heist “Anthony, I’m so excited for you, twelve months down, twelve to go,” a woman says on the phone. “Kari, this has been a long year. I miss you so much,” Anthony says. Kari puts her hand on the glass divider and gives a long, loving stare into the eyes of Anthony, “So what are you doing first when you come home? Coming to my house and…” she cuts herself off with a big smile and wink. “Going to your house and get the key to my case so I can get what I’m in here for. Then going back to your house and maybe let you decide the rest, Beautiful. You still have the key hidden away, right?” Anthony asks. “Yeah, I’ve got the key. I forgot to tell you that Drew called the other day,” Kari says as she runs her fingers through her long black hair. “He just asked how I was doing and mentioned something about the briefcase.” “The briefcase? What exactly did he say?” Anthony fiercely asks. “I don’t know. He just said that it’s been a year, and he was thinking about everything and decided to call me,” Kari says as she leans in towards the glass. “Well, what did you tell him?” Anthony asks. “I told him that the cops took everything that had anything to do with you. I figured if I said that then he wouldn’t ask about anything else and leave me alone.” “Your times up, Ma’am,” a low-pitched voice says from behind a red metal door. “Okay Honey. I have to go. Just be careful and don’t get in trouble.” Kari wipes a tear from her left cheek and says, “I love you.” “I love you too. Twelve months to go and I’ll be home. You be careful too,” Anthony says as he puts his hand to the glass. Kari raises her hand and presses it against the glass as if she was trying to push through it. A large policeman puts his hand on her shoulder to get Kari on her way. She slowly lowers her hand from the glass and again mouths the words, “I love you,” and then she is gone. Kari’s dark skin shines from the recently applied 2006-07-23T20:05:04-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Story-of-the-Heist--30563.aspx Story of Young Goodman Brown Story of Young Goodman Brown Goodman Brown stood there bewildered, as to what these holy men were doing in between the forest, where there was no church or place of worship. He began thinking of Faith, his wife, as deacon Gookin mentioned about a goodly young woman who was to attend the communion. He wondered if Faith would ever do such a thing as attend a communion of the evil. As he thought, the forest broke into all sorts of noise and Brown thought that it was of people talking. Trying to figure out whether he recognized any of those voices. Then he saw a group of people pass by along with a woman who seemed to resemble Faith. He was shocked. Goodman Brown decided to spy on the group and find out what was going on. They were all dressed in black cloaks, so there was no doubt in Goodman Brown’s mind that they were heading for the communion about which deacon Gookin had been talking earlier. And somehow he felt that the lady being talked about at that point of time was Faith, his wife. As he followed them slyly he could notice that the people at the back of the group always checked to see whether anyone was following them. He could also hear those people chanting prayers as they went along. Suddenly, there was a big crackling noise and the group stopped, realizing that he had stepped on a bunch of dry twigs he hid in the bushes near by. He could see some men from the group coming towards him. Goodman Brown froze with shock when he saw one of their faces, it was his neighbor. He sat in between the bushes motionless, trying not to draw any attention to his current place of hiding. After looking around the group of men joined the other people waiting, who had decided to wait for some time as they felt tired. Goodman Brown’s mind was racing in all possible direction trying to figure out a logical explanation as to why his wife was going to attend the communion, as by now he was sure that the lady was his wife. Finally, the group started out to complete the final leg of their journey. Goodman Brown just waited till he was sure that he could not be seen. The sky was clear except for a few stars and clouds, 2006-07-22T12:23:39-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Story-of-Young-Goodman-Brown-30435.aspx Story of Dorian Gray Story of Dorian Gray As Basil Hallward artfully put the finishing touches on his full-length portrait of an extraordinarily beautiful young man, Lord Henr Wotton paid him a call. Lord Henry much admired the painting and desired to meet the subject. The artist objected, knowing the poisonous influence of which Lord Henry was capable; young Dorian Gray was his ideal of purity and had inspired Basil to the most expressive art of his life. Just then, in walked Dorian Gray. Against Hallward's wishes, the two met, and Dorian was immediately taken by Lord Henry's fascinating words, presence and wittiness. Henry flattered Dorian with his comments on the virtues of beauty, the charms of youth, and expressed his sadness at the thought that such youth should fade into the ugliness of age. This caused Dorian to plummet into melancholy. Seeing his portrait for the first time, Dorian gasped at his own beauty. He lamented that the picture would mock him his entire life; age would indeed steal his color and grace: "I know, now, that when one loses one's good looks, whatever they may be, one loses everything ... Lord Henry Wotton is perfectly right. Youth is the only thing worth having. When I find that I am growing old, I shall kill myself." Then he wished instead that the picture might grow old while he remained forever young: "I would give everything. I would give my soul for that!" Alarmed by these passions in the young man, Hallward attempted to destroy the painting, but Dorian stopped him and had it taken home that very evening. After that first meeting, Dorian and Lord Henry became fast friends and frequent partners at local theatres. Henry presented Dorian with a gift - a book about a young man's passions, sins and vileness. Dorian became captivated by its plot. For years he leafed through its pages - and the book became an entrenched, tragic guide in the life of Dorian Gray. Dorian met and fell madly in love with Sibyl Vane, a beautiful and talented actress who was portraying Juliet in a cheap theatrical troupe. But the night Dorian invited Lord finery and Basil Hallward to meet his new love, her performance was lifeless. She was hissed and booed by even the uneducated audience. Afterward, she joyfully explained to the disappointed Dorian that her love for her "Prince Charming," - as 2006-07-04T13:30:43-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Story-of-Dorian-Gray--29974.aspx Faith Gets Some Help (Fictional Story) Faith Gets Some Help (Fictional Story) “I think I need some help.” Faith said, staggering inside the old, haunted mansion. Her right arm had a big cut in it, and blood was gushing out. Her face had a few scrapes and bruise’s, as did the rest of her body. Faith had just came back from a battle with an Excool demon. Faith was a witch, about 19 years old. She had brown eyes, and short blond hair. Her skin was pale, and she was very small, but strong for her age. Faith had a past life, where her name was Enchanted. In her past life she was an ‘evil’ witch. She made people suffer for her entertainment, and used them in her sacrifices. In order to be reunited with her mother, Faith had to be a good witch in this life. “What do you mean by that?” Melinda asked, looking up from a huge spell book that she was reading. Melinda was also a witch. She was 1,562 years old, but looked like she was in her early twenties. She had silky, shimmery, long black hair. She had dark green eyes, and tanned skin. Her job was to teach Faith the ‘do’s and don’ts’ of the craft, so Faith wouldn’t go to the ‘dark side’ again. Even though Faith was done her training, (Melinda was certain that Faith wouldn’t even think of going to the dark side again) Melinda somehow managed to get her ‘boss’ to let her stay in this realm- Earth. She wanted to stay mainly because she had become such good friends with Faith and Spike. Unlike Faith and Melinda, Spike wasn’t a witch, but a vampire. He was 20 years old, and he had brown hair, but he bleached it blond. He had deep, blue eyes, and fair skin. Spike was engaged to Faith in her past life, but once she found out that he bit one of her best friends, she staked him. In this life, however, Faith forgave him for what he did, and now he’s going out with her and helping her in her battles. Faith, Melinda, and Spike’s mission is to rid all the evil from the world, before it takes over. “Come on, Faith.” Spike said. “You 2006-07-02T17:38:13-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Faith-Gets-Some-Help-Fictional-Story-29896.aspx Story of the Underground Man Story of the Underground Man The Underground Man when confronted with reality sinks into his world of fantasy, and yet, realizes the depth of his fantasy in the real world. The Underground Man went to all sorts of strange places in an effort to amuse himself. Once he saw a man being thrown out of a window of a tavern and entered the tavern in the hopes that someone would throw him out of the window as well. Upon entering the tavern he is moved aside by an officer who fail to even notice him. This refusal to notice him was worse than if he had gotten a beating. What the Underground Man wanted was a quarrel in the literary sense, but he was simply ignored as if he did not exist. This sort of thing would not occur in the fantasies books he read, and so the Underground Man was insulted by the officer’s behavior. The Underground Man realized that all he had to do to seek a confrontation with the officer was protest, “and they surely would have thrown me out of the window…”. The Underground knew that he was not a “coward at heart,” but he was fearful of being humiliated and laughed at by his peers. The Underground really wanted to protest being moved aside and ignored by the officer, but he was fearful of doing so because he would have been forced to speak about a “point of honor,” which he could not have done unless he spoke about it in literary terms, this “ literary language” did not exist in ordinary everyday speech. The Underground realized that his way of seeing the world was different from ordinary folks, and that “point of honor” was something that did not exist in reality, but was invented through books. It was here that the Underground Man realized that if he persisted in his confrontation with the officer, using literary language, people would of “split their sides with laughter…before he [officer] might…throw me out the window.” The officer thus becomes the subject of the Underground Man’s hatred; he follows the officer around seeking some sought of revenge, because he cannot handle being ignored. As a result, the Underground Man planned a plot carefully, and the success of the plot depended on whether the officer noticed him or not. 2006-06-26T16:13:39-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Story-of-the-Underground-Man-29835.aspx My Big Trip to Hawaii My Big Trip to Hawaii I decided to write about my first big trip and the reason for picking it was I was sitting there trying to think of something to write about and could not think of anything. All of a sudden it came to me. The only thing in which I could remember a lot about is my first time to Hawaii. I am going to talk about how I felt and what everything looked like when I first saw the island also what it was like to fly for the first time in my life. The first time going to Hawaii was also the first time in which I have flown. I remember going into the airport and just looking at the humungous jet airplanes. I remember starring at one and thinking it was so big. It was bigger than most of the other planes and was gray with a red stripe down the side. I sat there starring at it for a couple of minutes and my mom came over and told me that that was the plane we were going to be on and she told me it was called a jumbo jet. I sat there a minute longer in disbelief that a plane that big would actually make it off the ground. Once we got onto the plane and sat down, I started to look around at everything around me. I noticed the circular white air vents right above my head with little lights next to the vent. It was so neat because the controls were right on my armrest. Also on the armrest was a place to plug in head phones in order to listen to music. I noticed that there was a big screen up on the wall that separated first class passengers from coach passengers. “That is the screen to watch movies on” my mom said. I could hardly believe that I could watch a movie while traveling since I was used to driving everywhere with no television in the car on vacation so I found that to be really cool. After everyone got settled into there seats, the stewardess came over the intercom and explained all of the safety procedures such as: the emergency exits, what to do incase of a crash on land and what to do incase of a crash in the water. They also showed everyone how to 2006-06-21T16:44:10-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/My-Big-Trip-to-Hawaii-29780.aspx Confused and Dazed Confused and Dazed It was a normal Friday morning, getting up around 10:00 or so, except someone had set my alarm clock to go off at 10:00. That right there, kind of pissed me off because I was having a really good dream. I usually never have good dreams; the dreams usually consist of me getting the shit kicked out of me, or some really bad tragedy where I lose my family. But there is nothing that I can do about this, so I got up and had some cereal. While I was eating breakfast, the phone rang. Michael, Travis, Stefan, Donald, Josh and Brad were making the yearly “Camp Bruton” camping trip. They were already at the campsite thinking that I was already there, since I didn’t meat any of them at the store at 9:00. Damn-It I knew I had to do something today, but I couldn’t figure out what it was, well I told Michael that I would be up there in about an hour, because I still needed to go to the store and pick up some supplies. That means I have to haul some massive balls just to get up there on time. So I jumped into the shower real fast and left my house in less then 10 minutes (that is like a record for me getting ready). So I ran to the store where I saw my dad, I asked him; “what the hell are you doing in town?” All pops said was; “I had a doctor appointment, and I was buying something for lunch.” Well I told him about going camping and how I was really late, so he let me borrow his radar detector. Now I am in business I left town with exactly 30 minutes to get up there. That means I have to make an hour trip in half the time. Its cool I know some short cuts, which will cut a whole bunch of time. As I was speeding down one of the short cuts, I smelt smoke, it smelt like “weed,” so I followed the smell because the smoke was dense enough to get high off of inhaling the smoke. The smoke was coming from this little cabin, there were police cars parked out in front, this really confused me because 2006-06-20T18:02:35-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Confused-and-Dazed--29735.aspx Sparks SPARKS!! One dollar and eighty-seven cents. That was all. And sixty cents of it was in pennies. Pennies saved one and two at a time by bulldozing the grocer and the vegetable man and the butcher until one's cheeks burned with the silent imputation of parsimony that such close dealing implied. Three times Della counted it. One dollar and eighty- seven cents. And the next day would be Christmas. There was clearly nothing to do but flop down on the shabby little couch and howl. So Della did it. Which instigates the moral reflection that life is made up of sobs, sniffles, and smiles, with sniffles predominating. While the mistress of the home is gradually subsiding from the first stage to the second, take a look at the home. A furnished flat at $8 per week. It did not exactly beggar description, but it certainly had that word on the lookout for the mendicancy squad. In the vestibule below was a letter-box into which no letter would go, and an electric button from which no mortal finger could coax a ring. Also appertaining thereunto was a card bearing the name "Mr. James Dillingham Young." The "Dillingham" had been flung to the breeze during a former period of prosperity when its possessor was being paid $30 per week. Now, when the income was shrunk to $20, though, they were thinking seriously of contracting to a modest and unassuming D. But whenever Mr. James Dillingham Young came home and reached his flat above he was called "Jim" and greatly hugged by Mrs. James Dillingham Young, already introduced to you as Della. Which is all very good. Della finished her cry and attended to her cheeks with the powder rag. She stood by the window and looked out dully at a gray cat walking a gray fence in a gray backyard. Tomorrow would be Christmas Day, and she had only $1.87 with which to buy Jim a present. She had been saving every penny she could for months, with this result. Twenty dollars a week doesn't go far. Expenses had been greater than she had calculated. They always are. Only $1.87 to buy a present for Jim. Her Jim. Many a happy hour she had spent planning for something nice for him. Something fine and rare and sterling--something just a little bit near to being worthy of the honor of being owned by Jim. 2006-06-15T16:25:56-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Sparks-29551.aspx The Bus Stop The Bus Stop Helen Parsons Shepherd, in 1965, painted a picture called “Bus Stop”. This picture displays many characteristics and is very interesting because it can be deciphered many different ways. The people are waiting at the bus stop because they want to go somewhere. The family in the middle, and their son and grandmother are waiting as well. The woman on the left is not part of this family, but perhaps a friend of the family who just happens to be there as well. I deem that all of the people in the group are going to church, because this portrait takes place a long time ago. Most families back then always used to 2006-06-15T00:52:38-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/The-Bus-Stop--29529.aspx Carried Carried First Lieutenant Jimmy Cross carried letters from a girl named Martha, a junior at Mount Sebastian College in New Jersey. They were not love letters, but Lieutenant Cross was hoping, so he kept them folded in plastic at the bottom of his rucksack. In the late afternoon, after a day's march, he would dig his foxhole, wash his hands under a canteen, unwrap the letters, hold them with the tips of his fingers, and spend the last hour of fight pretending. He would imagine romantic camping trips into the White Mountains in New Hampshire. He would sometimes taste the envelope flaps, knowing her tongue had been there. More than anything, he wanted Martha to love him as he loved her, but the letters were mostly chatty, elusive on the matter of love. She was a virgin, he was almost sure. She was an English major at Mount Sebastian, and she wrote beautifully about her professors and roommates and midterm exams, about her respect for Chaucer and her great affection for Virginia Woolf. She often quoted lines .of poetry; she never mentioned the war, except to say, Jimmy, take care of yourself. The letters weighed ten ounces. They were signed "Love, Martha," but Lieutenant Cross understood that Love was only a way of signing and did not mean what he sometimes pretended it meant. At dusk, he would carefully return the letters to his rucksack. Slowly, a bit distracted, he would get up and move among his men, checking the perimeter, then at full dark he would return to his hole and watch the night and wonder if Martha was a virgin. The things they carried were largely determined by necessity. Among the necessities or near-necessities were P-38 can openers, pocket knives, heat tabs, wrist watches, dog tags, mosquito repellent, chewing gum, candy, cigarettes, salt tablets, packets of Kool-Aid, lighters, matches, sewing kits, Military payment Certificates, C rations, and two or three canteens of water. Together, these items weighed between fifteen and twenty pounds, depending upon a man's habits or rate of metabolism. Henry Dobbins, who was a big man, carried extra rations; he was especially fond of canned peaches in heavy syrup over pound cake. Dave Jensen, who practiced field hygiene, carried a toothbrush, dental floss, and several hotel-size bars of soap he'd stolen on R&R in Sydney, Australia. Ted Lavender, who was scared, carried tranquilizers until he was shot in 2006-06-14T23:59:03-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Carried--29519.aspx Finding True Romance in School Finding True Romance in School The first thirteen years of my life weren’t very exciting. I played soccer, went to school, hung out with my friends, you know, the normal things a kid did. Then, my fourteenth year, I met the guy that threw me my first lifeline. His name was Gabriel Flores. He was the kind of guy everyone liked. He played all the sports including baseball, football, basketball, soccer and track, and played them well. The first day I saw him I knew there was something special about him I couldn’t quite figure out. He had a sense of shyness when I came around him. We would make eye contact, then turn away pretending as if we didn’t see each other. I never had a conversation with him; actually I never spoke one word in his presence. We were both in disguise of the crush we shared for each other. He walked with confidence, but I never seemed to catch him smile. He was always so serious . When he did smile or laugh, it was always because he or his friends were joking around about something. It made me weak in the knees to look at him. His hair was so dark like the midnight sky, always in the right style that everyone envied. His eyes sparkled like marbles of amber dancing in the mid-afternoon sun. He always looked so much older, like he didn’t belong with all those immature eighth graders. The first day for us to make physical contact was one afternoon at school after we were through eating lunch. It was customary for all the students to go outside to the basketball courts and either play basketball or socialize. That day I was feeling a little sporty, so I played basketball with a bunch of friends. I felt someone bump into me not realizing it was Gabriel. When it came to my senses that it was him, my whole body began to tremble and I forgot what I was doing as I went into a blank daze. 2006-06-14T21:00:19-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Finding-True-Romance-in-School-29486.aspx A Senior's Lament A Senior's Lament Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz, I was awoken by the sound of my alarm clock next to my bed. I rolled over to check the time to see if I could close my eyes for a few more minutes. It was 4:30 in the morning and it was time to get up and get ready to leave. I rolled out of bed only to find out that my friend was still asleep and snoring on my floor. I chucked my pillow at him and it hit him in the face. He immediately got up and I told him it was time to go. We tiptoed downstairs, being extremely careful so we wouldn’t wake my mom up. Despite the creaking stairs, we made it into the living room where our bags and surfboards were. We gathered all of our things and took them to my freshly gas-filled truck. After everything was loaded in we both hopped in and drove down the street to pick up my other two friends that were waiting on their small brick stoop. They piled their things on top of ours and climbed in the back. As we pulled away from their house I started the first of five cds of our journey down to the beach. The cds were a ritual: first Jimmy Buffets, “Songs You Know By Heart,” proceeded by Sublime, Dave Matthews, “Live At Luther College,” a burned cd with various songs on it, and finally OAR. Somehow we timed the music perfectly so it started when we left my neighborhood and the last song was over when we stopped at ramp 49 in Frisco, Cape Hatteras North Carolina. We also factored in a stop for breakfast at Hardees. This was a special trip to the beach, it was Senior Skip. We planned to camp at the beach the whole weekend. We soon found out that we were going to be camping at several locations each of which came equip with a problem. I stopped my truck at the beginning of the ramp. My friend Joey was riding in the passenger seat and he and I jumped out of the truck to lock the hubs so I could put it in four-wheel drive. Once it was in four-wheel, we began to drive down the ramp and 2006-06-13T19:03:27-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/A-Senior-s-Lament--29461.aspx Having a Crush at School Having a Crush at School John didn’t like Girls. They were always squabbling with each other. 2006-06-13T18:01:37-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Having-a-Crush-at-School-29426.aspx All in a Day's Ride to School All in a Day's Ride to School Beep, beep! Billy’s ride honks outside of his house. Its horn gives off a nice homely sound. Billy buttons his jacket as he rushes out the door with his backpack in one hand and a piece of toast in the other. He opens up the minivan’s door to see his friend Joey sitting in the front seat. They say good morning as they turn the first corner onto the main street. Then the unthinkable happens. As little Billy puts his seatbelt on, it locks in place and tightens immensely, pushing Billy into the back of his seat. It grows tighter and tighter until Billy can barely breath and is about to ask for help. Then Billy sees Joey and his mother turn towards him and laugh hysterically. They have evil in their faces and Billy is overcome with a sense of dread. He knows it is not looking good for him. At the first stop light, Joey’s mom runs the red and cuts off three cars, She laughs out loud and says, “Damn them crazy drivers. Muahahahha.” They are going 120mph now and weaving in and out of traffic. Joey’s mom gets the back of her car clipped but acts like nothing happened. They spin out and she laughs histerically. She straitens it out and goes on. Mother and son are now in a psychotic trance and nothing can break their concentration. Joey has his eyes in the newspaper and Joey’s mom has her face against the windshield. They are both smiling and tense. The next light is different. Joey’s mom slams on the brakes and both children go flying forward. Joey doesn’t even seem to notice. He just keeps on reading his paper. Joey’s mom taps the gas; ready to zoom off the instant the light turns green. Billy is about to jump out the window when his seat belts pull him back to the seat once more. With a mad burst of acceleration, the minivan is off again. Joey’s mom starts chanting in a foreign language. Then she and Joey start yelling at each other or chanting together in that same language. Billy can’t tell. All he can do is close his eyes as the traffic goes whizzing past their car. He is sure they will instantly die. Maybe not…he peeks through his hands and sees the school’s opening 500 yards ahead. Billy sees a glimmer 2006-06-13T03:30:24-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/All-in-a-Day-s-Ride-to-School-29408.aspx A Reason to Buy Lottery Tickets A Reason to Buy Lottery Tickets That day when Trina bought a lottery ticket from Maria had changed everything. That little peace of paper had a major impact on almost every main character that lived in the flat. Winning five thousand dollars by Trina change everything for herself. She got married on McTeague so suddenly that I couldn’t believe that they made their decision about marriage so fast. And the wedding itself was something you wouldn’t like to miss where Marcus was making fun of McTeague who couldn’t distinguish champagne from beer. Her parent took of to a new place also at the same day. Trina found herself left alone with her new husband in their new place. I guess Marcus was the first person whose life was affected by that lottery ticket. He was very upset when he started realizing that he is loosing Trina as a girlfriend. She was going out with his pal McTeague and Marcus didn’t like it, but he was hiding his emotions. And that ticket was last drop for Marcus. He started to treat McTeague differently day by day, and finally he let his anger out in salon where he was drinking and McTeague was seating behind him. He started it by screaming that he wants to get part of that five grands. Marcus broke McTeague’s pipe and almost stabbed him with his pocket knife. Than was that stupid fight in the park where McTeague broke his arm during his second attempt to wrestle down McTeague. And at the end Marcus slammed by the door before leaving by informing the City Hall that Mr. McTeague is doing his practice without graduating from a dental school. For loosing Trina and her money, Marcus decided to ruin McTeague’s life. Trina was also affected by this money. Who could expect that she is going to be so greedy and so crazy about the money? First she became very angry at McTeague who signed papers for renting a house that she liked and wanted. They would have to pay the rent for the first month and she didn’t even want to help her husband to pay that money. She didn’t want to add some furniture to her house even though that she could afford it. But when she said that she couldn’t send fifty dollars to her mama whose husband’s business vent down was something that I will never understand. She even 2006-06-12T19:05:34-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/A-Reason-to-Buy-Lottery-Tickets-29357.aspx High Speed Car Chase in the Countryside High Speed Car Chase in the Countryside I’ll never forget what happened one day while I was fishing. I had just caught the biggest fish I had ever seen in my life when suddenly I heard a siren, so I let go of the fish by mistake. There was a bridge above me, so I went on top of a hill so I could see what was happening. I saw nothing; I just heard it. I started walking down the hill when I heard a gun shot. I turned around and started to walk up the hill again. It was a horrible sight. I saw a red BMW being chased by two cop cars. The BMW showed no fear, so the person driving it just kept on going. As the BMW was being chased, it made its way onto the bridge. Suddenly one of the cops stuck his head out of the window. He pulled out his arm and was carrying a gun in his hand. The cop shot at the BMW but missed. Then the cop tried one more time. He shot and hit the tire of the BMW, and it spun three times. On the third spin, it hit the side of the bridge and fell off. As the BMW fell off of the bridge, it started to flip. It hit a big rock in the water and got severely damaged. Once the car fell off of the rock, it sunk to the bottom of the river in flames. After the car vanished, I ran over to the water. I took off my jacket, slipped off my shoes, and took off my Rolex. I jumped into the water and saw the car. It was at the bottom of the river, but the current wasn’t rapid. I started to swim down toward the car but on my way down I saw a dead body floating around. I was terrified and swam back up for air. As I went back down I could see two people in the car trying to get out, but it looked like they were stuck. By the time I got to the car, one of the people had stopped moving. I tried helping the other person, but his leg was caught in the door. I went back up for air. There were four cops running down the hill. I was about to jump back into the water, but 2006-06-12T19:01:08-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/High-Speed-Car-Chase-in-the-Countryside-29354.aspx Visiting Tropical Islands in Dreams Visiting Tropical Islands in Dreams There’s a beautiful island in front of me. It’s so beautiful that I think I am in a dream. I am sitting on the beach, and I can’t remember what happened to me. I think no one cares about what happened when he or she is in such a perfect island. I am a little hungry, and I should find some food. Though there is a beautiful island, I don’t think I can eat something there. At the moment, a big animal which I have never seen before moves towards me. It looks like a wolf, but I am sure its not a wolf. It moves so slowly. I think it must have never seen human before. I turn back and run away as quickly as I can. It doesn’t chase me. Maybe it isn’t sure if I can be eaten. Then I run in a cave. It’s dark and wet. Through the opening on the side of the wall, I can see outside clearly. What a beautiful island it is! The sky is blue, the sea is green and the island is green. It looks like a picture in the exhibition. When I marvel at the perfect island, another big animal runs to me. I think I am safe, because the jaw is small, and the animal is too big to get into it. The animal cries loudly outside. I am so scared when I hear that! After a few minutes, a bigger animal comes there. They begin to fight each other. At last, the bigger one wins. I can’t believe that it eats the meat of the small one. Maybe it is full, or maybe it is tired. It walks away. Then I relax. I can’t find anything can be eaten in the cave except water. It’s getting dark. I know it is dangerous to go out. So I have to stay there till tomorrow. When the sun goes down below the sea level, everything is getting dark, and it is getting cold. I am covered with a big dry leave in order to be warm. I look outside. It’s very dark. Only hear some strange noises. It sounds like a big bird flies in the sky, and it’s also sounds like a lot of big surf. I can’t 2006-06-12T18:47:21-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Visiting-Tropical-Islands-in-Dreams-29347.aspx Growing up in the Summer Growing up in the Summer Over the course of a brief, yet eternally long summer, I ceased to be a child. The culmination of years worth of bickering and a marriage teetering precariously on the rocks became one single, two syllable word which I associate with my own personal apocalypse: divorce. Forced to pick up the pieces of my shattered reality, my simple 15-year-old mind was morphed into a whole new existence. Slowly it evolved, but it was emotionally hindered. The main emotion that illuminated in my mind was the deeply frustrating one called uncertainty. Over the first few days it took my father to pack up his whole life after the age of thirty and ship out, it was all that I could think about. Although I thought I would be prepared for that fateful early summer day by previous pseudo break-ups, nothing could prepare me for the floodgate of emotional turmoil that opened up and poured out all over me. Saturated to the core, I was devastated. The next few weeks were an eventful haze. Occupied by innumerable verbal barrages of pure passion between my parents and the uncomfortable chats about how "everything will be alright," I felt more alone than anyone should dare feel. More and more I boarded myself up within myself, seeking the comfort of my own aloneness and never letting anyone share the grief of the death of my childhood. The more I thought, the more I missed my previous naiveté and simple existence, which I had lost forever. The chaos that was my mind continued to swirl on its own trajectory, never resting. My dad picked up 15 years of his life and left all that I had known of him to my memories. I was slowly recovering from the intense shock of my situation and of my death; the only medicine was the ever-powerful experience. My days were spent all alone as my mother was working, my father nowhere to be found and my older sister no longer living with us. My little brother could do nothing to comfort me; he was drowning in his own existence. Each passing day filled me with more and more emotional turmoil and I was about to burst. Well, that happened a little while later. Dad came back to talk to me a few weeks later just as I was finally starting to heal. Quickly my wounds were ravaged 2006-06-12T03:01:01-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Growing-up-in-the-Summer-29292.aspx A Tribute Dedicated to Firemen A Tribute Dedicated to Firemen On a cool afternoon I rang the doorbell to a firehouse located in Phoenix, Arizona. I had feelings of anxiousness and was waiting very impatiently at the door. My preconceptions were that I would speak with a very buff male (probably someone who looked as if they were in the WWF), that I would meet nothing but arrogant cocky guys who wanted to be a bunch of heroes, and that I would see them flying down poles and cute white Dalmatians chasing after their “little” red engines that could. All of this was thrown to the back of my mind as the door creaked open. A small, brown-haired, friendly woman answered in her casual clothes of a t-shirt and sweats saying, “Come on in, you’re Lori, right?” I nodded my head and entered the red brick home. “My name is Gina. Come follow me and I’ll show you around, introduce you to the captain and our team.” She pointed to a few guys in the living room and I smiled and said hello. Their living room had a few nice leather chairs and a good size TV, they seemed pretty casual and were having a good time talking and laughing over a game of baseball. I followed Gina from the living room into their kitchen. They had a large fridge with just about all anyone might ever want to eat in their lives! It was especially interesting how these fire men/women look tough on the outside, yet wrote their names on each bag of lunch as if they were in third grade again and don’t want anyone to steal what their mommy packed especially for them. We moved from there into the garage, which is where the big red engine sat along with a rescue unit, otherwise known as an ambulance. “These are where we keep our fire proof boots, coats, and helmets and we have to keep them in order because we don’t usually have a lot of time when going to the scene of a large fire.” I glanced along the pathway of the engine at the bright yellow jackets, heavy boots, and hard helmets she was pointing to, which were assembled in a specific order. I tried on a jacket and boots that Gina handed to me, so I could get the “full experience,” though something tells me you can never 2006-06-12T02:42:02-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/A-Tribute-Dedicated-to-Firemen-29281.aspx Cereal's Tragic Tales Cereal's Tragic Tales On my way back from The Fallen Angels Satan Club Meeting I looked in my mailbox and I got a letter. It said, "Dear Cereal, Why are you so ugly? I have to go. Be a good orphan. Goodbye. Love, Mrs. Mommy." I wondered who had written that letter. After about 20 minutes of standing in front of my mailbox, I realized it was my mom. My mom had written the letter to me. My mom. She was the one. She had written the letter. Mrs. Mommy was my mommy. A single tear rolled down my cheek. I realized that I couldn’t live with Regina anymore. My severe sadness is just making her sadder and sadder. I can't see her that sad. I decided to move out on my own. I couldn't find a place to live though. No one wants to sell an apartment to an ugly depressed boy. Oh woe is me! I feel like every hair on my head was being ripped out one by one. Then I realized the reason I felt that way was because my hands were ripping out my hairs one by one. Later on, I went to the mall to buy a wig. When I went in, everyone was staring at me. Probably because I was bald. I went to the wigs store. But it wasn’t open. Oh no. I realized the reason it wasn't open was because it was very late and nothing was open except for the sporting goods store. I recalled an episode of Saved By the Bell, and I decided to go in the tent in the sporting good store. I stayed up really late wishing Kelly Kapowski would come in the tent. But then I realized that I'm a loser, and no one likes me. Oh my medication! Where are you? I need you so! My blood pulsed through my veins rapidly. It felt like a million tiny knives stabbing me. In the morning I got a letter from the mailman. He opened up the tent and said, "Here, this is for you!" I said, "Me?" and he said "Yes." So I assumed it was for me. It was a letter from Regina! How did she know where I lived? Before I could think about it, I realized that I was so depressed and that I couldn't take it anymore and I needed drugs. Then 2006-06-12T01:47:52-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Cereal-s-Tragic-Tales-29256.aspx The Shadows of the Common Sailor The Shadows of the Common Sailor Chapter 1 IN THE time before steamships, or then more frequently than now, a stroller along the docks of any considerable sea-port would occasionally have his attention arrested by a group of bronzed mariners, man-of-war's men or merchant-sailors in holiday attire ashore on liberty. In certain instances they would flank, or, like a body-guard quite surround some superior figure of their own class, moving along with them like Aldebaran among the lesser lights of his constellation. That signal object was the "Handsome Sailor" of the less prosaic time alike of the military and merchant navies. With no perceptible trace of the vainglorious about him, rather with the off-hand unaffectedness of natural regality, he seemed to accept the spontaneous homage of his shipmates. A somewhat remarkable instance recurs to me. In Liverpool, now half a century ago, I saw under the shadow of the great dingy street-wall of Prince's Dock (an obstruction long since removed) a common sailor, so intensely black that he must needs have been a native African of the unadulterate blood of Ham. A symmetric figure much above the average height. The two ends of a gay silk handkerchief thrown loose about the neck danced upon the displayed ebony of his chest; in his ears were big hoops of gold, and a Scotch Highland bonnet with a tartan band set off his shapely head. It was a hot noon in July; and his face, lustrous with perspiration, beamed with barbaric good humor. In jovial sallies right and left, his white teeth flashing into he rollicked along, the centre of a company of his shipmates. These were made up of such an assortment of tribes and complexions as would have well fitted them to be marched up by Anacharsis Cloots before the bar of the first French Assembly as Representatives of the Human Race. At each spontaneous tribute rendered by the wayfarers to this black pagod of a fellow- the tribute of a pause and stare, and less frequent an exclamation,- the motley retinue showed that they took that sort of pride in the evoker of it which the Assyrian priests doubtless showed for their grand sculptured Bull when the faithful prostrated themselves.To return. If in some cases a bit of a nautical Murat in setting forth his person ashore, the Handsome Sailor of the period in question evinced nothing of the dandified Billy-be-Damn, an amusing 2006-06-11T20:04:25-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/The-Shadows-of-the-Common-Sailor-29235.aspx The First Day of School can be Tough The First Day of School can be Tough The class squirmed together to get onto the bench. Feeling keen to start sport Miss Murphy was having difficulties explaining the rules and safety issues to the children. The idea was chosen to sit on the bench and watch the more experience children from the other team. The pre-primers watched for a little while in anticipation , too keen to start they decided to run out onto the court and join in. Miss Murphy with low communication skills was not able to keep everyone on the seats. “ Sit down, come on sit down” said Miss Murphy as she attempted to guide the students back to the bench. Gabriella, one of the most favourable Mexican pre-primers wanted to play the keeper in the game of indoor soccer and was serverly kicked in the face by the ball coming from the other team. Gabriella fell hard fast becoming unconsouis with blood from his mouth and nose. The pre- primers that ran onto the court quickly ran onside to their fellow student. To see him hurt and not responding to his mates left the children deverstated. Miss Murphy had no other option but to call the ambulance and get urgent help. The children started to cry not understanding what was actually happening. The other team were all crowded around trying to calm the younger students down. Miss Murphy contacted the ambulance and said that the ambulance would be there soon but another problem arose when she was unable to contact Gabriella’s parents and guardian due to understanding of a different language. The ambulance soon arrived and found that Gabriella was stil unconscious, it was something serious. Gabriella had not awoken for approxiamately twenty minutes now. He was rushed to hospital and Miss Murphy was left in great shock. The children just wanted to know and understand what was happening. Patrick tried explaining to the ambulance officer what had happened but all he could say was “the ball, the ball hit Gabby” The hospital organised everything but could not get any information to contact his parents. The ambulance officer assumed that the pro nouciation of “Gabby” was maybe “Garry” for his personal details, not being able to ask the boy himself things became difficult. The boy was rushed into emergency but did not regain conciousness. Everything had become one major dilemma. Six and a half 2006-06-11T19:05:35-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/The-First-Day-of-School-can-be-Tough-29204.aspx The Life of a Fly Named Bill The Life of a Fly Named Bill Safe and warm under the stinking, rotting, festering pile of compost, wriggled a little brown maggot called Bill. Life was very nice for Bill, eating decomposing vegetables all day, while he was slowly morphing into the fly that he was soon to become. He lay there dreaming of all the adventures he would have when his wings finally took him away from the stink he called home. The day finally came. Bill crawled and pushed his way up through the mountain of compost till he reached the peak. After his monstrous climb he spread his wings out to dry before his maiden flight out into the world. He was so excited! Where would he go first? All of a sudden a beautiful smell wafted under Bill’s nose. Yuuuuuuuummmmm he thought. He took off, a little shaky at first, but soon he was zeroing in on that beautiful smell. And there it was…..a nice, juicy, rotting old sausage that had fallen behind the neighbours BBQ. Bill was in fly heaven! To all humans the smell would, no doubt, have made them spew, but to Bill it was nectar. Flies don’t live very long so Bill had to make the most of his day. Bzzzzzzzzzzz bzzzzzzzz bzzzzzz off he went, over the trees, round the dogs kennel, good smell thought Bill, past the school and then….there it was…. the rotting carcass of a dead possum. Bill didn’t know where to start…..the blue intestines, the bloodshot eye, the exposed bone……ahhhhh, life is a feast for a fly! He did more sniffing and licking than eating, because he was still stuffed from the sausage. Bill took off again on his adventure. Oh no, it couldn’t be true! He couldn’t be that lucky! Was that the biggest dog’s dropping in the world over there in the park? Bill dive-bombed the dog poo! He swam in it. He rolled in it. He loved it! What could be better than this? He was so excited with all the adventures that he had had that day that he thought he would fly back to the heap and tell all the other little wriggling maggots how wonderful the outside world was. On the way back home he caught sight of a hot, steaming BBQ chicken sitting on a kitchen table. He flew through the open window to say hello to the big, dead, juicy bird. He put 2006-06-11T02:36:54-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/The-Life-of-a-Fly-Named-Bill-29181.aspx Use of Character Development and Strong Imagery in Story Use of Character Development and Strong Imagery in Story Dwight giving my Winchester away was inconceivable; I left the house and went to talk to Arthur. “Arthur, can you believe that Dwight would make the decision to trade my Winchester for a stupid dog, especially without asking me? On top of that, he lied to my mother once again. There is no way that Dwight will get my Winchester back like he told my mother he would.” “Who knows,” said Arthur, “Maybe he didn’t lie to your mother and he really is going to trade for your Winchester back.” “Dwight’s main goal has always been to make me as miserable as he could and this was only the next step”, I yelled back at Arthur. Arthur didn’t know what he was talking about. Dwight had gone to far this time. It was my Winchester, not his. I knew exactly how I was going to get even too. When Champions previous owner sends the AKC papers, I’m going to find out exactly where my Winchester is. Then I am going to hitchhike with Arthur to Seattle and get my Winchester back. After I get back, Dwight will be sorry that he has treated my mother and I so poorly. School was not important anymore; the only thing on my mind was to make sure that I would get to the mail before Dwight. As the mailman approached on Wednesday, I had a funny feeling in my stomach. Were the papers going to finally be here? Would I now be able to start my plan? The mailman handed me the mail – They were here! Champion’s owner did actually live in Seattle and the plan to get my back Winchester back could now be formulated. Lying awake in bed I thought of my plan. Before I leave for school, I am going to take some of the money I have been saving up and place it in my secret hiding spot in the woods. I was to go to go to school like it was any normal day. During my paper route, I am going to pick up Arthur at the place where we once fought and, hopefully, Arthur is going to bring with him some food that he steals from home. Lastly, we will 2006-06-02T03:50:31-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Use-of-Character-Development-and-Strong-Imagery-in-Story-29022.aspx Trip to Restaraunt Leads to Melting Crime Scene Trip to Restaraunt Leads to Melting Crime Scene The extremely cold wind sent shivers all through my body. Opening the door to a red building shape like a barn, I felt the warmth as I enter. I notice canning jars filled with grape jelly and strawberry jam, sitting through out the room. Old photographs of trains, people, towns, and old baskets hanging on the wall. Sitting on the shelves are artificial red flowers, green vines, old dishes and jars. In the middle of the room sits a glass cabinet with perfectly backed pies. Blue and gold curtains toppers hang on the windows with blinds. There are lights on the ceiling and some are hung on the walls. The walls have a marble look that matches the tabletops. Both are trimmed in dark wood. The waitress is carefully caring trays stacked with dishes. People are engaged in conversation waiting patiently to be seated. There are ladies dressed in color coordinated outfits with jewelry to match. There are s variety of different shapes and sizes of people. People are dress in many different styles and colors of clothing and shoes. I hear shoes squeak with each footstep as people walk across the floor, also I hear the scraping sounds of chairs being moved back and forth. There are people laughing and eating at the same time. Noisy children are slurping their drinks. Parents are talking to their children about staying up too late. A lady ask for a fork that is not bent. My own silverware scrapes on the plate I eat. I listen to dishes clanging as food is being prepared and served. I hear the tinkle of money being dropped into the cash register drawer. There are lovers whispering softly which comes across like they are mumbling. There are some people complaining about how long it is taking for their food, while others comment on how good the service is. I inhaled the deeply aroma of the food makes my stomach growl loudly. I can smell the steaks on the grill and chicken frying. The aroma of coffee brewing fills the room. The smell of pies and rolls baking in the oven made my water. The honey and the syrup that sits on the tables smells sweet. The combination of smells make it difficult to decide on my menu choice. After standing for awhile, I appreciate the soft comfortable seat 2006-06-01T02:51:26-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Trip-to-Restaraunt-Leads-to-Melting-Crime-Scene-28972.aspx 'Nature's Way' A story for nature appreciation It was the morning it all began, the start of the Hunnington Project. John Longview was the son of the owner of Hunnington-Scott Papers (HSP). Michael, his father, had just finalized the project a week before, and it was already beginning. The company had just bought an entire thousand acres of Brazilian land. The land was blooming with life, not only animal, but also vegitation. Trees were the vegitation HSP was after. After all, what else is paper made out of, for cheap that is. John was the kind of guy you’d find handing the dollar out the window to the man holding a cardboard sign at the stop light just after getting a coffee at Starbuck’s drive-through window in his ’78 ‘Hippie Van.’ Much different than his farther you would say, some would say it was out of spite. John would say, it’s the right way. The Longviews were a very well off family, “loaded”if you will. Being the owners of North America’s top paper products producer, dealing with the enviroment was last on their objectives list. John was completely con forest depletion for paper. He hated the industry. Complete neglect and ignorance of nature’s beauty, but it was greed that fueled his father’s fire. This Hunnington Project wasn’t even necessary, but how could Michael pass up a thousand acres of lush land, for 10% below market value. He saw the land as a gold mine, an open band. Michael could be found saying “money does grow off trees,” and in a sense, he was right. The Hunnington project consided of four phases. Phase one; land. The land had been bought just after Thanksgiving last year, phase one complete. Phase two; resources. This would consist of HSP killing the helpless vegitation of the land in order to prepare it for production of paper products, this leads to phase three; production. And what this was all for, the sale, phase four, market. John just needed to do something and, not just anything this time, it had to be drastic. John was planning on rounding up all of his activist friends for a rally he had planned to have at the Brazilian “Phase two” site. Since money was not an issue he had all 40 of his friends flown down to South America. Once arrived they met at a near by slum hotel, to discuss strategies. The plan was to rush the site in 2006-05-23T19:05:25-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/-Nature-s-Way-A-story-for-nature-appreciation-28870.aspx Morning Time in Merrimac Morning time in Merrimac Icy blue eyes open to the sound of a tiny alarm clock beeping, ivory hands slip out from under the golden blanket's that cover my body to turn it off. 'It's time to wake up...my time to awaken.' I think while rolling over to get out of bed. My feet touch the cold carpeted floor as I sit on the edge of the bed for a moment before walking to the open 2006-05-18T02:29:58-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Morning-Time-in-Merrimac-28858.aspx The End of the World January 3 Since you and I are going to be very best friends, I might as well describe my self to you. I am 16years old, I live in Blacksburg, Virginia, but I am originally Egyptian. I live with me parents in an apartment, not too far from my school. I have only been in the U.S. for 3 years so my grammar might not be perfect. I only have 4 Muslim friends in my school, and only one of them is a girl. And I don't really say anything to her other than 'hi', because she doesn't speak English or Arabic at all. There is this other girl from her country so they're always together. After school I went to Jessica's house to work on a project for probability and data. We did a great project, but we finished early so there was still sometime until I had to go home. We went outside and played basketball. Then we decided to go for a walk. We saw that some people were moving in the house in front of Jessica's. They had a girl about our age, so I asked Jessica if we can go and say hi. At first Jessica said no, but then she said "Only if you talk first" I said "Sure". "Hi, my name is Sama, and this is my friend Jessica" I said to the new girl. "My name is Lena, nice to meet you" Lena said. "Jessica lives there" I told Lena while pointing at Jessica's house. "Do you live near here?" Lena asked me. "No I live far away from here" I told Lena. Soon my parents came and I had to leave. I left after Lena told us that she will be going to our school, starting tomorrow. I was so excited. I love meeting new people. When I was a little girl, I made friends with everyone I sat with either on a bus or in an elevator. But me parents told me that it is a good thing to meet new people, but you can't just make friends with anyone, you should be careful about who you are talking to. So now I only make friends with neighbors or people I meet in school. That was just about everything that happened today. January 4 Today, I am fasting 2006-05-18T01:59:49-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/The-End-of-the-World-28857.aspx The Tell-Tale Heart by Edgar Allan Poe The Tell-Tale Heart by Edgar Allan Poe TRUE!-NERVOUS--very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am! but why will you say that I am mad? The disease had sharpened my senses--not destroyed--not dulled them. Above all was the sense of hearing acute. I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in hell. How, then, am I mad? Hearken! and observe how healthily--how calmly I can tell you the whole story. It is impossible to tell how first the idea entered my brain; but once conceived, it haunted me day and night. Object there was none. Passion there was none. I loved the old man. He had never wronged me. He had never given me insult. For his gold I had no desire. I think it was his eye! Yes, it was this! One of his eyes resembled that of a vulture--a pale blue eye, with a film over it. Whenever it fell upon me, my blood ran cold; and so by degrees--very gradually--I made up my mind to take the life of the old man, and thus rid myself of the eye forever. Now this is the point. You fancy me mad. Madmen know nothing. But you should have seen me. You should have seen how wisely I proceeded--with what caution--with what foresight--with what dissimulation I went to work! I was never kinder to the old man than during the whole week before I killed him. And every night, about midnight, I turned the latch of his door and opened it--oh, so gently! And then, when I had made an opening sufficient for my head, I put in a dark lantern, all closed, closed, so that no light shone out, and then I thrust in my head. Oh, you would have laughed to see how cunningly I thrust it in! I moved it slowly--very, very slowly, so that I might not disturb the old man's sleep. It took me an hour to place my whole head within the opening so far that I could see him as he lay upon his bed. Ha!--would a madman have been so wise as this? And then, when my head was well in the room, I undid the lantern cautiously--oh, so cautiously--cautiously (for the hinges creaked)--I undid it just so much that a single thin ray fell upon the vulture eye. And this I did for seven long 2006-04-04T03:44:39-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/The-Tell-Tale-Heart-by-Edgar-Allan-Poe-28658.aspx The Change of Jem and Scout During the Coarse of the Novel The Change of Jem and Scout During the Coarse of the Novel In the novel To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee we can see Scout and Jem mature and grow. They learned many things, but also lost many things. They learned not to be prejudice like everyone else was in town. They dared to have their own opinion about their father Atticus, Boo Radley and the Tom Robinson trial. As Scout grew up and changed, she began to see how things really were. She lost her innocence when she found this out. She began to see how cruel the world could be to someone who is a little different or strange. She gained the knowledge of the pure hate that one man can show another. The kid’s relationship with Atticus starts out normal. Though, as the story progresses, they recognized he’s different then other men. This shows when Scout says “He did not do the things our schoolmates’ fathers did: he never went hunting, did not play poker or fish or drink or smoke. He sat in the livingroom and read” (pg 89). Atticus had the courage to take the case of a black man, Tom Robinson. It was obvious they didn’t stand a chance going against a white man in court but Atticus did it anyways. He did something that no other man would do, not for the glory, but because he can show a great example to his kids and it is the right thing to do. The kids learned not to be prejudice and not be ashamed if they have friends who are a different race then they are, for example Calpurnia. The way the children’s relationship changed about Boo is probably the most interesting part in the book. It went from an obsession to an unconditional love. First the children believed that anything that comes from the Radley's property is poison. Jem yells at Scout once saying about the Radley property: “Don't you know you're not supposed to even touch the trees over there? You'll get killed if you do!” (pg. 33). The kids didn’t know that Boo admired them, even though he barely knew them. After a while they noticed that Boo was giving them little hidden presents, and they realized that he is the one who folded and sewed together Jem’s pants. He showed an unconditional love that most people his age would not 2006-02-03T22:33:28-05:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/The-Change-of-Jem-and-Scout-During-the-Coarse-of-the-Novel-28467.aspx The Short Trip The short trip I called my friends with my brand new cellphone, and made them come over. I told them I had 2006-01-24T13:35:04-05:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/The-Short-Trip-28454.aspx My Western Story As Lara walked through the field, a slight wind blew. She stepped onto her carriage to go to town. Her carriage was drawn by two brown horses. She rode down her dusty road until she reached town. She arrived at the saloon and had to hold up her dress to keep it from getting dirty. She walked into the saloon and sat down at the bar. She ordered her drink. The drunken Rusty Chops burst into the door. He over tossed tables and cards and poker chips flew everywhere. He made his way through the bar, until he got to Lara. He got down on one knee by Lara, and fell down. When he managed to get up, he fell over again! When he finally got his balance, he took Laras hand and with hiccups mumbled, “Lara, (hiccup), will you (hiccup), marry me?” She said, “ Rusty, you are a drunken man, go home.” Rusty got up and stumbled out the door and fell down the steps into a pile of horse manure. Lara just shook her head and giggled. The next day she was at home. She had gardened all day, and was brushing the horses as Red, the blonde headed sheriff rode by. He was riding a white horse, with a brown spot on its nose. Lara blushed as he tipped his hat, and rode off into the distance. From then on, all she could think about was Red. She thought about him as she brought the water inside, and as she brushed her hair. That night, before she went to bed, she smiled and looked into the stars. The next morning, she woke up and cleaned up to go to town. She was hoping to see Red sometime. She made herself extra pretty by curling her eyelashes, and making sure that every hair was in place. She got into her carriage and rode into town to the saloon. As she sat down with something to drink, she overheard talk of Wild Juan. The Mexican outlaw looking for some trouble. She was starting to get scared. As she took another drink, Wild Juan and his Posse busted through the door. They stood there in the dust, and carried pistols in their holsters, and knives in 2006-01-01T21:44:30-05:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/My-Western-Story-28371.aspx Kia’s Dramatic Life Kia’s Dramatic Life Typically, when a baby is born, people are extremely happy and joyful, but this didn’t happen when Kia was born. Kia’s mother had an unusual and tough pregnancy, but gave birth in East General Hospital at 5:49 am. In a sweet and loving voice the young nurse said, “Your baby is very healthy and has a wonderful sparkle in her green eyes.” But no one replied. The nurse sadly and quietly whispered to Kia’s mother’s doctor, “She must be in shock, or unconscious for she isn’t replying.” Unfortunately, this was not the case; Kia’s mother had died after her seven-pound baby had been born. Since little Kia had no other relatives that were able to take care of her, the doctors at the hospital did not know what to do. Her father had never kept in contact and could not be located. The doctors talked amongst each other, with social workers and decided that Kia and her two-year-old sister, Nicole, would have to be put up for adoption or live in an orphanage. “I was told that when I turn seven we’ll move to a foster home, do you believe that Nicole?” asked Kia. “Ya, I do, I hope we get a nice, rich lady so I can have every toy in the world!” replied nine-year old Nicole. “You’re just greedy, I don’t want to leave, I love it here!” Since the tragic death of these young girls’ mother they have been living at the Deep River Orphanage, for almost seven years. Kia continued talking, as if she were in a dream world, “This place has everything I need. I have all my friends and a great school. Everything is so cozy and warm, my bedroom full of all eight of us girls, is like living at camp all year-round. Everyone who works here is nice and don’t treat me badly. Besides, haven’t you heard all the awful stories about foster parents?” Nicole didn’t answer, she never had many friends here, and she never seemed to have confidence to talk to people. She wanted to leave. One regular autumn Saturday, Kia and Nicole were woken up 2005-11-05T22:27:27-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Kia’s-Dramatic-Life-28085.aspx Short Story - War As Len thought back, he could see his mum drop to the ground trembling. “ What’s wrong I cried”. *SMASH Len came back to his senses. The waves of bodies cleansing themselves in the foam of the beach broke his haven from the reeking smell. Looking over he sighed, “ more”. Glancing left then right he counted the crosses protruding from the white bleached sand and whispered, “twenty-seven”. “ They’ll never stop coming Len,” sighed Matt as he walked over, “ when are you going to stop?” “Mate, to me this aren’t no chore, it’s a moral duty.” *BOOM As a shell landed on the beach sending splinters everywhere from the shattered crosses uprooting the rotting corpses. He saw dismembered bodies lobbed into the air. “ Positions,” the sergeant screamed at his dazed troops. “They’re back!” Recovering from the shock, Len pulled Matt up and yelled “ Matt!” “Get in position, they’re back.” Scrambling over the dismembered corpses, Len urged his comrades to the trench. Still with shells dropping their deafening blows and the whistling of hot metal he heard only one sound. “ARGHHHH,” screamed a troop of Japanese as hey begun their death charge up the beach dune. “ One, two, three OPEN FIRE,” screamed the sergeant as we took our rifles, lined our scopes and fired. As the cracking of metal on metal begun, eight Japanese fell to the ground to join the rank of the corpses, while the remaining charged to meet their comrades fate. The deafening shells kept falling, coming closer and closer. “Retreat,” screamed the sergeant as he radioed in the USS-Dallas. As Len ran back, he could see his comrades being lobbed up in the air as though they weighed nothing only to fall back to earth in pieces. “ We’re getting teared to pieces sarge!” “Aren’t there a better place than this godforsaken beach,” I screamed as another comrade went down from another hot piece of metal. *BOOM As metal grinded against metal, he heard the chopping sound of the plane propellers above. “ You Beauty,” I cheered as my savior dropped its deadly payload onto the unsuspecting Japs. As dismembered bodies were lobbed into the air I felt a sharp pain in my left shoulder. As Len inspected his arm he realized it was a splinter from one of the crosses. “ Sound off guys, its over,’ the sarge called as he walked over inspecting his men’s 2005-10-23T03:32:50-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Short-Story-War--28068.aspx Horror Short Story On Deaths Door ON DEATHS DOOR The drip, drip, drip splashed crimson on the ground and it was just about then that she let out a terrifying scream. She had seen a reflection of a black hooded figure rising behind her. She stood there frozen in fear. The figure was starting to lift something behind her, she quickly swung around to see the figures face, but it had vanished. She kept telling herself that she was just seeing things or it was a reflection of something else, so she decided to go wash her face and to go outside, to get some fresh air. She proceeded outside; she had just left her doorstep when she saw some children run into alleyway. She decided to go investigate. She followed 2005-10-23T03:28:02-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Horror-Short-Story-On-Deaths-Door-28067.aspx Do you wish you could see the future? Do you wish you could see the future? It was a small, circular, mysterious mirror. When Eric picked it up, he saw his crystal clear reflection, enhanced by the smooth, silver glass. He looked up out of the old boxes he was rummaging through to find the rest of his dimly lit garage. He could hear kids playing outside and he rubbed his hands together, trying to remove the sting of the bitter cold. He picked up the mirror, and took it into his mansion of a house in a quiet, peaceful suburb. It was a Midwestern winter, and the days were short, bringing cold nights whistled with the sounds of speeding cars flying down the highway. Eric heard the piercing call from his mother. "Eric, we're going to McDonald's. What do you want us to bring you back?" Eric thought about it a moment, and responded in his low, heavy voice. "I’m not hungry right now. Go ahead." "You really should eat!" she yelled back. He didn't respond. Instead, he went into his room, mirror in hand. Eric had long been obsessed with the paranormal, reading books of ghosts, demons, and angels. It was in these books that he learned of foretelling the future through the use of mirror glass. He remembered about the cool antique mirror and figured he would give the ancient art a shot. He opened up the book, looked at some procedures, and followed the instructions. He set out the fancy purple cloth on his desk and placed the circular mirror down upon it. He then eagerly looked into the book and slowly chanted the specified gibberish in slow, broken Latin. With that, he blew out his candles, waiting as the book said, for the mirror's powers to unlock. Nothing happened. He got up from the chair in expectation that it wouldn't work, and proceeded to turn the lights on, when he was shocked by what he heard. It started off as a quiet whisper, and as he listened in absolute fear it became louder and louder, until he could hear nothing else but the 2005-09-02T21:33:28-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Do-you-wish-you-could-see-the-future-27868.aspx Romeo's Story: A Parody Of Romeo And Juliet Unbelievable, I told Willy the story and he still got it wrong. He didn't even mention the shoe lady! Now it's up to me, "Romeo" to tell you the true story. At least Willy had the courtesy to use "Romeo" and "Juliet" so as not to disclose our true identities. The only part of the play that Willy got right was the prologue! Everything else was completely blown out of proportion. I will admit that our two families fought a lot, but that was because all of us were factions of rival gangs. See, my last name isn't Montague, that's just the gang I'm in. I wasn't feeling very well the day this all started because my girlfriend had just dumped me. I was spending too much time with "Benvolio" and the rest of the gang and she never saw me. I knew she was right, but what could I do? My "brothers" tried to cheer me up by suggesting we crash the rave the Capulet's were having. Good, I needed to beat up someone anyway. This stupid rival gang thing had completely ruined my life! Angry as I was, I entered the hangar where the rave was being held and stopped short. Not more than five feet in front of me was the most beautiful and sensuous girl I had ever seen. Another thing Willy got wrong, she was seventeen, not fourteen and ripe for the picking. Big on drama and morals, I guess, Willy decided to change the age! This fair woman was dancing with the senator's son "Paris." I could still see however, that she was not impressed. When the song was over I grabbed her and started to dance. It was a slow song (what timing) and she didn't stop me. Now, because "Juliet's" cousin "Tybalt" was a little high on something (probably X), he decided to try to ruin the rave! He grabbed one of the bottles off the table and headed straight towards me. Good old "Tybalt," he can spot me out of any crowd! Lucky for me though, one of the guards stopped him and told him to cool down outside. "Does your watch have a second hand because I want you to tell me how long it took for me to fall in love with you?" Hey, I know it's cheesy but I had to use the line. J "I have to go…call me" She then 2005-06-20T00:45:03-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Romeo-s-Story-A-Parody-Of-Romeo-And-Juliet-27019.aspx Lord of The Flies Diary Lord of The Flies Diary I woke up about twenty minutes ago from this weird black-out state I must’ve gone into when the plane crashed. It reads so strange on the page, the words—the plane crashed. I was in a plane crash, and I’m still alive to write about it. Not that I have anything to write—I just blacked out, and woke up after an hour or so, I’m guessing. I was on a beach, and a boy was hovering over me, blocking out the sun. He was prodding me with his foot and saying over and over again, in a voice that sounded like a record on the wrong speed, "You alright? You there—alright?" He told me what had happened. Then I sat up and saw other boys in blazers like mine walking towards a far-off cluster of more blazers. The boy prodding me said someone had blown a megaphone. He hauled me off the sand, and together we made our way towards the group of boys. So today was the first day on the island with all of the other boys. I expect we’ll be here awhile, unless we’re lucky and get rescued in a hurry. After awhile all gathered together and calmed down enough to listen to the boy who’d blown the megaphone—which really turned out to be this big shell he’d found. We had to chose a leader because we need some form of government or else everything will just be chaos and disorder. We voted Ralph as the leader. With the conch in his hands, he seemed like the most powerful one of all of us. In order for us to figure out whether we would be rescued or not we had to find out if the island we were on was really an island or not. Ralph, Jack and I climbed up the mountains and saw that all around us was water therefore we were on an island and would need to make some sort of signal incase there were any ships that passed through. On our way up the mountains we realized that there were pigs living on the island and since we can’t live on just fruit we need hunters to hunt the pigs for their meat. Jack and his choir have been designated as the hunters—maybe because they already seem like a pack in the midst of the rest of us, all disorganized and 2005-06-16T08:12:25-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Lord-of-The-Flies-Diary--26880.aspx Lewis and Clarks Expedition Journal Entry Write a journal entry based on the actual experience of a member of Lewis and Clarks expedition June 23, 1804 This afternoon we passed some of the highest mountains I had ever seen; and on the top of the highest we saw some Mountain sheep, which the natives say are common about the Rocky mountains. These were the first we had seen, and we attempted to kill some of them but did not succeed. Captain Lewis, and one of the men, traveled some distance by land and killed a white bear. The natives call them white, but they are more of a brown gray. They are longer than the common black bear, and have much larger feet and talons. Capt. Clark and Drewyer killed the largest brown bear tonight that any of us had ever seen. It was a most tremendous looking animal, and extremely hard to kill he had five shots through his lungs and five others in various parts he swam more than half the distance across the river to a sandbar, & it was at least twenty minutes before he died; he did not attempt to attack, but fled and made the most tremendous roaring from the moment he was shot. We had no means of weighing this monster; ... this bear differs from the common black bear in several respects; it’s claws are much longer and more curved, it’s tale shorter, it’s hair which is of a reddish or brown, is longer thicker and finer than that of the black bear; his liver lungs and heart are much larger even in proportion with his size; the heart particularly was as large as that of a large Ox. A very cold night last night our moccasins froze right next to the fire. June 24, 1804 We set off at sunrise we saw a huge group of buffalo. We saw a very large brown bear on the hills today. Six men went from the canoes to kill the bear they fired at him and only wounded him, he started to chase after them and chased 2 men in to a canoe. They took off in the river and fired at him some more. Some of the men on shore wounded him worse, the bear then chased one man down a steep bank into the River and almost got a hold of him, but he kept running into the stream, so that the 2005-06-16T04:43:28-04:00 http://75.150.148.189/free-essay/Lewis-and-Clarks-Expedition-Journal-Entry-26869.aspx